System Restore
by Flynn1
Summary: It's over. Flynn Lives. So does Clu. Everything's different, yet some things will never change...
1. Chapter 1

_(Disclaimer: I don't own "Tron". I'm just a fan. The plot for this story was written by me, but it is based on the "Tron" and "Tron Legacy" characters and plotline, which of course belong to Disney. Any quotes from the "Tron" or "Tron Legacy" films which are used in this story are strictly in homage to the films.) _

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_._

The silence had a vacuous roar, compared to twenty-one years of a constant electronic hum and the thunderous calamity that had stilled it.

At first there was only the steady pervasive ring of darkness, infinite stillness, clinging all around him. He had no awareness of a body, self, form, no idea where he was, nor any notion of how many minutes, cycles, lifetimes had passed or were passing.

_...so this is death…_ he thought. And the nothingness answered him with nothingness.

But then he heard the discordant buzzing. Heard it, long before he felt it, a strange current seeping up from underneath him, sparkling like electricity up his spine. Or at least, where his spine was in life. It was painful, almost. It seemed a lot like what de-resolution should feel like for a program, except that it somehow brought an awareness of form once again, rather than the lack of it. And it brought vision, as gray wispy shapes resolved into view against blackness. He blinked. Clouds drifting overhead, tinged by a soft blue glow came into focus. Finally the buzzing resolved into a distinct sound, a familiar sound. A droning, constant, rhythmic sound...waves,...followed by the awareness that the sound was coming from nearby.

_...The Sea of Simulation_...

Confusion threaded through his thoughts and drummed as steady as the sea. He tried to comprehend where he was, having accepted that apparently he still in fact _was_, at least in some form, though he was uncertain of much else. Reaching a curious hand up to his face was mostly reflex, but the instant he moved, it was as though his nerves had been asleep for a thousand years and were all waking at once…fierce agony, burning, aching, cramping, finally subsiding to leave only tingles in the hand and fingertips. Leaving his arm very still, he moved his toe slightly, and the same excruciating sensations repeated, tearing all through his leg and foot. Apparently every first attempt at movement was going to bring this same reaction.

..._Oh yeah,…this is gonna hurt like hell, isn't it?…_

Summoning his determination, he sat up suddenly…only to hear his own voice screaming as he fell back down on to his side convulsing in agony. He felt like his body had been turned into a live wire, and this pain was worse than anything he'd ever experienced.

After some time, he realized he'd been holding his breath. Releasing it, he lay there panting instead, as the pain finally subsided into dull prickly tingles of electricity. He felt weak, but with great effort he placed a palm onto the cool surface and very slowly raised himself up to sit, vertigo rushing through his head with the change in movement. At the back of his skull was a strange echoed whispery thrumming, and it seemed to resonate through his entire head every few seconds. Then this too subsided, and he looked slowly around him, blinking in the dim light, trying to discern where he was.

Following the sound of the sea he stared until his eyes adjusted, and then he could see the water's edge in the grayish darkness. His mind lurched with questions.

_How is any of this still here?..._

_How is the system even still online?..._

_Tron..._

_Of course..._

_But how?... _

_And where is the light?..._

He sat staring off at the darkened sea, then finally decided to stand, though it took him a few tries to do so. It was then that he looked down to notice the glow at his feet, boots now illuminated with a stripe of glowing bluish-white.

_...Huh...well there's some light…_

A glance up from the boots to his legs revealed a pair of riding slacks he hadn't worn in two decades. The jacket now rebooting itself with a stripe of light down the front was one he'd long since retired as well. Another surge of reflex and his hand reached over his head to his back…still no disk. Yet he stood there, apparently alive again, wearing the clothes he'd worn when he'd first arrived. All the questions echoing in his head combined into one which repeated

…_How?…_

Baffled and still slightly disoriented, he reached to scratch his beard only to find there wasn't one. In its place was only a light scruffiness. He'd just begun trying to wade through that newest addition to the already confusing train of thoughts when he glimpsed sudden movement off in the distance to his right.

Steadying himself he turned, squinting in the darkness, then saw the silhouette of a program doubled over on the ground. The very next sound was a howl of pain. He strained in the darkness to see the figure, but he recognized the voice instantly. It was identical to his own.

His muscles felt like lead. Moving very slowly, it took him what seemed like ages to put one foot in front of the other and finally make it a few yards down the shore. By the time he reached the program, Flynn could see a steady bluish white glow beginning to emanate from the identity disk on the back of the jacket, a jacket which was identical to his own. The pants were identical as well, as were the boots. He walked slowly around the figure who lay hunched it's side, eyes closed, wincing in pain, then he stood staring down into a younger version of his own face. His jaw tightened, and when the gray blue eyes finally opened to stare up at him in shock and confusion, he spoke.

**" _Yeah, … no fun, is it? You're not gonna' want to try to stand up anytime soon." _**

He stood watching as the mirror image of himself silently came to terms with the agonizing process, slowly sitting up, wincing again, and finally speaking in an unsteady voice.

_**"It's… over?…"**_

Wide eyes still looked up at him in confusion. The querulous voice was devoid of it's former arrogance. Instead there was just a hint of fear. But then a soft oddly naïve smile swept onto the features, as though the two of them had just finished a ride at the County Fair.

Right then Kevin Flynn finally lost his patience, along with what was left of the rest of his Zen, throwing his arms up in the air in complete furious incredulous exasperation.

**"_CLU ! … Wh- ... what the -… NO! … Man,… no! … it's NOT 'over'!…."_**

His very surprised replica stared back at him, looking even more confused, almost hurt. For a moment he felt guilty at his outburst. But not that guilty. He had a right to vent.

**"…_I mean,… yeah – okay in one respect it is…but- …no, … just- … Clu, what in the flying wide-open hell made you DO all that?…"_**

He stopped pacing back and forth, and spun around to face his bewildered doppelganger, stammering and gesturing wildly as he tried to give voice to his intense frustration.

**"…_okay, well,…yeah…maybe I made you do all that, indirectly,…sure… because I programmed you…. but,…but,…I never told you to just-…just-…and then to -…oh Jesus H. Chr- "_**

Flynn bit back his words, and growled in abject frustration, literally shaking his fists in the air, then stood there quietly fuming, trying to reign in his temper. It was clear to him now that two decades of suppressing his angst and his anger with constant meditation hadn't really served as much of a healthy purpose as he'd thought, aside from keeping him alive in a state of emotional suspended animation.

Clu still stared at him, and finally answered with a twinge of hurt in his solemn voice, _**"I did everything you asked. I thought… it was what you wanted."**_

Flynn stared incredulously at him, and shook his head, exasperated, flinging his arms wide.

**"_WHAT?…NO-ooo, Clu…!…It wasn't what I wanted, man, not at all!… What I wanted…was,…was to get my life back,… and for Sam to –"_**

Pausing again, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He could see Clu just wasn't getting it. And this frustrated him even more. He exhaled a sigh, walking a few steps away, trying to calm himself, trying to order his frenzied thoughts as he fought back anger, desperation, bitterness, and then he turned to face Clu again.

**"_Look,…I know this is….this is my own fault…right?…and, I created you, and,… you're really kind of like a… a, a, …child,… in a sense,… a very brilliant one, yeah, but … you gotta understand, -"_**

He stopped speaking again, then stared up at the still darkened platform not far above on the hill - the portal. Emotions once again surged in him, spilling over. He stomped back towards Clu, stopped, and pointed up at the portal where his son had disappeared into the user world.

**"… _that WAS my child, Clu!… My actual child!…I brought him into the world!…the user world!…my flesh and blood, man!….my son!…he came here to find me!…to find me, after twenty-one freaking years and now he's gone!…and I'm still here…or,…or,…we're still here, rather…"_**

Flynn paused, exhaling in defeat as he let his hands drop to his side,_** "…and I have no idea if I'll ever see him again… or how to get out of this godforsaken place!…."**_

Clu stared at him, then lowered his eyes to the ground, silent. Flynn resumed pacing, then stopped and spoke again, in a voice somewhat less loud but no less urgent.

**"…_and it's …it's not just about Sam,… but Quorra, …and, all the ISO's….all the programs - ….what you did to them was wrong, Clu!…wrong!…and there's nothing I put in your programming that could have told you to do it - any of it! Maybe it was my failure to teach you, but - ... but, no , man, ... no ..."  
_**

Flynn stopped again, stood with his eyes closed, calming himself. Then he finally looked back at Clu, whose face now registered every form of remorse there was.

**"…_ no. It's not over, …Clu. Because we have to fix it. We have to fix you, and me, and the Grid, … and fix Tron - assuming we find him- …and… we have to find my son. And I don't know how we're gonna do all that, but I do know you're gonna help me."_**

Clu looked back up at him, his features rife with contrition and so many questions unspoken. But he only voiced one, with eyes that conveyed the same hopefulness his creator so desperately wanted to feel right now.

**"…_in the user world?"_**

Flynn stared at the program for a moment. Reborn and removed of his previous status as overlord, Clu really was very much like a child, albeit a very brilliant and errant one. Gone was his previous vitriolic anger and defiance, and now this new Clu was so much like the old Clu, ... the way he'd been when Flynn had first created him. Whatever had happened to his Codified Likeness Utility during the reintegration, it had certainly changed him, and Flynn was taken aback by it, disarmed even. As the frustration began to leave him, suddenly in his thoughts was the echo of a phrase he hadn't heard himself utter in decades ... _no problems, only solutions ... _and he shook his head slowly.

**"_No, Clu, … well, … yeah, … maybe…eventually. Assuming we can get back there. But first, … first we're going to start right here. There's a lot of damage we have to undo."_**

Clu's only reaction was a slightly sheepish nod, like a mischievous kid who knew he'd been caught. Then Flynn extended his hand to him.

**"Gimme' your hand."**

Clu looked at him curiously for a moment, then finally grabbed hold of the hand, and Flynn slowly pulled him to a standing position, after which Clu lost his balance almost instantly, reeling with vertigo. Flynn steadied him with an arm to his shoulder, and gave a knowing nod.

**"_It's alright,…'just part of it. It'll pass. "_**

Clu shook his head and blinked, trying to get his bearings. Flynn released Clu's shoulder and shook out his own arm, the muscles reacting with strained tiredness after having lifted Clu's weight.

**"… _jeez, man, you're as heavy as me. Getting a bit too old for this…" _**

Clu blinked again, as his balance and vision stabilized, then he just stared at Flynn quizzically, studying his face. _**"You, … we're ,… 'old'?"**_

Flynn stared at him a second, then suddenly realized that somehow, in the process of whatever had happened, he now was most likely the same age as the young man who stared back at him. How, he had no idea. He sure as hell didn't feel that young. But as he touched a hand to his stubbly chin, fingers wandering up smooth, youthful skin, sure enough he found a brow which was far less wrinkled than he'd expected it would be. Then he looked down at his hands, and chuckled almost giddily, shaking his head. This was just plain _unreal_.

**"_No, … buddy, I guess not. At least, … not anymore."_**

But Clu wasn't even paying attention, instead looking down at his own clothing, perplexed as he traced the single stripe of light down the front of his jacket and then stared at his boots.

Flynn watched him for a moment, then a brief flash of lightning accented the clouds, grabbing his attention. This gave rise to an idea, and he slowly knelt down to one knee, placing his palms to the ground, focusing his thoughts. ..._Let's knock on the sky…_

A second later, he looked up to scan the horizon, feeling a rush of relief when he saw the familiar bluish glow appear over the tops of the angular hillside. The lights of Tron City were restored. Releasing his fingertips from the ground, he smiled. _...I guess some things will never change... _

With a chuckle, he stood, looked at Clu, then nodded in the direction of the restored city lights.

**"_Come on…let's find our way back." _**

Flynn turned, motioned for Clu to follow, and the two slowly made their way along the craggy ground of the darkened beach. Once they reached the top of the hillside an elaborate glowing labyrinth of trails was visible, the familiar paths which led into the city.

After walking for quite some time, finally they stepped off the back trails and onto the illuminated city walkway, where they were met with the astonished, confused stares from a group of programs which was passing by on foot…programs which then all took off into a panicked run and fled in all directions.

Clu stared at Flynn, who simply chuckled and kept walking.

**"_It's okay, Clu…they have no idea what's happened - not that I do either, but,… they probably think there's two of you now. Ha - looks like you got yourself an identical twin,… brother." _**

Clu smiled, considering the word. _**"Brother…"**_he mimicked proudly, and thought for a moment, then looked questioningly at his creator, **"**_**..and,…when we go to the user world?…will we still be, then?…"**_

**"_First things first, Clu…we gotta' fix your world before we fix mine…"_**

Flynn paused, realizing what Clu meant, then reached to pat his living likeness on the back.

**"…_but, yeah, Clu, …brothers. We're always on the same team,… from now on."_**


	2. Chapter 2

"_**Kevin Flynn,…there's just one thing I don't understand…"**_

Clu's voice had that familiar musing drawl he sometimes got, and the sound of his words broke the silence, startling Flynn out of a myriad of thoughts. He looked over at Clu as they started across the bridge.

"_**Yeah?… Just one thing?…I'd say you're pretty lucky, pal. There's a whole lot I don't understand right now. What don't you understand?…"**_

Clu looked up at the flashes of lightning which winked through the clouds, then gestured at the vast illuminated city surrounding them. **"**_**How…has all of this come back again?…"**_

Flynn took a deep breath, and shrugged. _**"Well,…I'm not sure. I've been trying to figure that same thing out myself."**_

"_**You don't…know?…"**_ Clu glanced at him skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"_**Nope…not a clue – pardon the pun…"**_

Flynn chuckled, looking over at the program who didn't seem to get the joke, and in fact seemed to be deeply formulating some idea, his brow furrowed and his eyes registering disappointment as he stared at the ground._**  
"What?…Hey, I told you I wasn't perfect, right?"**_ he chuckled again, but stopped when Clu looked up at him with an expression not unlike that of a child who'd just learned there was no Santa Claus.

It still amazed him how much Clu seemed to be able mirror back to him not just his own expressions but his own emotions too, and so convincingly. Which was odd considering that his look-alike didn't currently have the capability to feel true emotions - at least, not right now, not yet. That was a glitch they were going to have to fix soon, along with making sure his circuitry was rid of whatever had corrupted it.

"_**Don't worry…we'll probably figure it out,…but…"**_ Flynn paused, glancing at the still-silent program. _**"…it's okay not to know things sometimes, Clu. Sometimes things just don't make sense, and there are some things it just isn't possible to figure out. In that case, learning to be okay with not knowing is sort of a form of perfection in itself."**_

That seemed to really confuse Clu, and Flynn gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"_**Nevermind. Just follow me. Something tells me that eventually this is all gonna make sense…I know where to start looking for answers."**_

Flynn nodded towards the path ahead of them, then started walking again. Clu followed along wordlessly, then caught up to walk side by side with him. Flynn could tell the program didn't quite understand, maybe didn't quite believe him or even know what to believe, but this was one of those instances where trusting the process was the only option they had.  
**_"It's n_**_****__ot_ too much farther, …" Flynn said as they stepped off the bridge and onto the street, _**"…it's been a long time, but I'm pretty sure we're getting close."**_

They walked down several deserted darkened streets, then rounded a corner, and then Flynn stopped, pointing up at the neon words which graced the top of the tall building across the street.

_Flynn's Arcade._

"_**Yeah. See, now there's a piece of history I could never forget…"**_

Looking up at the familiar onyx tiled archways, he gave a wry smile, but as his gaze traveled down to the entranceway, the smile quickly faded. He squinted, staring with growing alarm at the figure which lay curled up on the ground beside the door. The markings on the light-suit were ones he recognized all too well, and a chill ran through him. One more step and he broke into a full run towards the building.

Clu followed behind him, stopping a few paces from the entrance, then watching solemnly as Flynn fell to his knees beside the motionless program, his face distraught.

"_**Oh man,…no,…Jesus no,…"**_ Flynn reached to the fallen form, carefully cradling it's stilled shoulders and gently reaching a hand to turn the head, revealing the face they both recognized.

**"**_**Tron…"**_ Flynn half-whispered, heart racing and eyes welling with tears as he reached to touch the unresponsive program. Surveying the damage he saw two spots of deresolution on Tron's head. Very serious wounds. And several parts of the suit had pixels torn away. The disk was still connected to his back but wasn't illuminated. It was going to take a miracle to save this program's life, to bring him back.

Then Flynn's thoughts raced, and with jaw clenched he turned to look at Clu, anger and sorrow furrowing his brow. **"**_**Did you do this to him?…" **_

But Clu's face was somber, concerned, and he simply shook his head and stated matter-of-factly. ** "**_**No. I didn't. When I last saw him, he was not injured. We were falling and I took his baton away from him. I flew away and then I assumed he just fell into the sea." **_

Flynn knew Clu like he knew himself. The program wasn't lying…he wasn't really capable of it. Self-delusion, maybe, but lying, not a chance.

"_**The sea wouldn't have done this…"**_ Flynn stared back at Tron's injuries, studying them, _**"…and besides the sea is way too far away for him to have made it this far. Someone's disk did this…"**_

His voice trailed off, and he sat back on his heels, then reached to gently scoop Tron's unconscious form up, cradling it into his arms as he stood slowly.  
With darkened eyes he looked at Clu, then continued speaking, jaw still clenched and tears glistening, **"**_**Someone's disk did this…and if I ever find out whose,…it's going to take every damned bit of my Zen to keep me from derezzing them on the spot." **_

Flynn looked back at Tron, then took a deep somber breath and nodded towards the door. **"**_**Get that for me would ya, Clu?…we gotta' get him inside and help him." **_


	3. Chapter 3

Clu stood silently aside, somberly watching as Flynn attempted to administer urgent care to Tron. Seeing his user in action in this capacity was humbling, and Clu was again made mindful of one of the many reasons why Kevin Flynn was so worthy of the admiration so many programs had once given him, which he himself had given him before the virus had taken over and twisted his entire reality. Clu had once heard the ISO's speak of some mythological beings called 'healers', and while he still wasn't exactly certain such beings existed, he was relatively sure that his user could qualify as one.

After having carried the unresponsive program to the lab at the back of the arcade, Flynn had placed Tron on the scanner table, the only piece of furniture spacious enough to accommodate him. Hardly a comfortable place for any program to recline, but Flynn had quickly found a small meditation pillow amongst his long-abandoned personal belongings there in the lab, placing it gently beneath Tron's head, then rolling him onto his side in order to access the identity disk on his back. Then he stood for a long time, still and silent, with his hand gently resting on Tron's forehead, and his eyes closed. It appeared to Clu as though Flynn were asleep, but in reality he was simply clearing his mind and focusing on what to do next.

What he did next was to carefully remove the identity disk, and after much effort, he finally managed to pry the disk casing open. Then he stood staring intently at the myriad of altered coding, while tapping his fingers on the tabletop in frustration. Finally he set it down, turning around to look at Clu.

"_**Well…. I don't know what you did to him, man, …but the code on this disk might as well be in Chinese."**_

Clu looked confused. It then occurred to Flynn that Clu had no idea what Chinese meant. Crossing his arms, he gave a long sigh, then brought a hand to his face, resting it against his chin to lean on it. He stared at Clu and raised an eyebrow.

_**"Nevermind. So,…..wanna explain?…"**_

Clu looked back at Flynn with an expression quickly shifting from confusion to uneasiness, then finally spoke.

"_**It was Jarvis, actually. I simply told him what to do**_,_** and, he did it."**_

Flynn rolled his eyes and gave a sigh. _**"I see. Well…can you UN-do it?"**_

Clu didn't respond, instead just stared at him, still looking uneasy. Flynn tilted his chin and frowned back at him, waiting. Finally he uncrossed his arms, and exhaled loudly, gesturing with open hands to reiterate the question which Clu seemed to have forgotten.

"_**Well?…"**_

"…_**..I…don't know."**_

At Clu's answer, Kevin's eyes opened wide and his brows shot upward - while it was good that Clu was getting a handle on imperfection by admitting he didn't know something, this was not what he wanted to hear the former overlord and system administrator say right now. He grimaced, closing his eyes tightly, trying his best to temper his mounting impatience as he spoke.

_**"Okay,…..um,..….wh-…why don't you know, Clu?…"**_

Clu's brow furrowed in confusion then he stepped forward, raising his voice in a sudden, defensive, and frustrated reply.

"…_**You said…you said that perfection wasn't possible!…that it's alright not to know something!…You said-"**_

"_**Okay, okay…whoa-whoa-whoa, Clu,…chill…."**_ Flynn interrupted him, keeping his voice soft, his hands peacefully extended in an attempt to calm the addled program. He reached to pat Clu's shoulder, but Clu angrily shrugged off the touch and stood staring down at the floor, sulking.  
Right at that moment, the temperamental Clu reminded Flynn of a teenager, and he smiled wryly - _this is a side of my son I never got to see. _

"_**Clu,…I know what I said, and… yes….you're right about that…perfection thing…okay?…but,…"**_

Flynn paused, trying to find the right words, _**"…what I meant was,… …can you explain to me what's causing you not to know?…"**_

From the look on the program's face, Flynn gathered this re-phrasing of his question hadn't dissipated much of Clu's confusion or frustration. He tried again.

"_**Okay…no,…I mean…..what-…what is it that you're unsure of?…in the equation…here…" **_

He hoped he was getting through to Clu. He really did. He needed an answer. Tron's very life was at stake. But when Clu spoke, with serious eyes and a great amount of reticence, the answer he got was one for which he was not quite prepared.

"_**He was repurposed…but,…part of his new coding was transplanted from an outside donor source…" **_Clu paused, then with some gravity in his voice, continued, _**"…an isometric algorithm,… one which was a fierce and undefeated fighter, but extremely unstable. A control regulator sequence was added to force his system into compliance, and to simulate stability,… and I don't know if any of that can be reversed…not without wiping his memory entirely."**_

Flynn's eyes closed tightly, trying to process the very words he'd least wanted to hear. He looked back at Tron, his heart sinking as he considered the possibility that the caring program he once knew and loved might be gone forever, unrecoverable, its personality virtually destroyed by the prolonged extensive system corruption coupled with the damage from the injury itself. Then he sighed, turning back to look at Clu.

"_**Well,…..I guess we're gonna find out…" **_he paused, removing the master chip from Tron's identity disk and grasping it in his palm. When he spoke, there was indeed sadness and gravity in his voice, but the inimitable Flynn determination was not gone from his eyes as he looked right at Clu, _**"I'm not giving up on him**_ _**…and you shouldn't either."**_

With that he turned and walked briskly to the computer interface. He was about to sit down at the desk when an idea suddenly crossed his mind, one which he hadn't stopped to consider before now, but one which was as fundamentally vital as it was simple. He motioned for Clu to join him at the desk.

"_**First…there's something very important which has to be done,… and… only you can do it…" **_

As Clu approached the expansive desk and stared down at the illuminated keyboard, Flynn pulled the chair out from under the desk, and gestured for him to sit. He did, and then looked up at Flynn, wondering what this was all about, until his user spoke.

"_**You gotta call off your Black Guard, man…all of them, every single one…right now." **_

Clu stared up at Flynn appearing slightly perplexed, and started to say something but Flynn raised a hand, gently but firmly interrupting him.

"_**Clu,…look…. I know,…I know what you're probably going to say…but,… we don't know that they didn't make it through the reintegration and reboot just like we did,…just like Tron did….okay?…and-…and,… IF they did – then that means all the programs are still in danger,…including Tron,…and,… they only take orders from you, SOooo,…you gotta call them off, man."**_

Noting Clu's hesitance, seeing what looked like wariness and turmoil in his face, Flynn paused. Then he pointed at the illuminated keyboard, and looked Clu right in the eyes, his voice calm but insistent.

_** "…come on, Clu,….look - …give this man a fighting chance - give us all a fighting chance….he would do the same for you, if the situation were reversed. This is your chance to be the hero now…do it...please."**_


	4. Chapter 4

Clu looked wordlessly back at Flynn…everything about the request seemed risky to him, unwise, unsafe, and left him feeling bereft of control, but then his logic encoding reminded him that his hesitancy could simply be due to a glitch in his programming. He was, after all, a product of what Kevin Flynn called 'artificial intelligence', and with that there were variables, always variables. "Unknowns", Flynn called them. And that was the very concept which had once driven him to decide his user's perspective was imperfect and therefore wrong, because Clu had not been content to allow for unknowns…unknowns were imperfect and therefore wrong.

But something was now overriding those former erroneous presumptions.

This unknown was right…this was a chance to redeem himself from previous failures, to help correct the situation, as well as to prove his willingness to learn, to do as Flynn said and learn to 'trust the process'. This was a chance to make his user proud of him once again. And a chance to help Tron.

Turning to the keyboard he initiated the interface and typed in a series of commands, and it was done. Then he looked up at his user with a sardonic grin. _**"Well,…since you said 'please'…"**_

Kevin laughed at Clu's uncharacteristic display of humor, and patted his newly-found identical twin on the shoulder.

"_**Thank you, Clu. I'm proud of you, man."**_

Wordlessly Clu acknowledged the praise, but with the gentle nod and the beginnings of a smile which he gave to his user, he spoke volumes…_that is all I needed to hear._

About a half-hour had passed.

Or at least it seemed like it to Flynn…even after all these years he still tended to think in minutes and hours, not in millicycles. He sat at the interface, trying to analyze the chip from Tron's disk and read the codings, but being that it was apparently the product of some hybrid operating system, none of the usual commands were working, not even the most basic and universal ones.

He had tried "C:\\replace-disk\TRON".

The screen said, "_invalid command line"

_Okay, let's try this…_

He had tried, "C:\TRON:\ -editshellshell=".

The screen said, "_invalid path or filename specified".

_Damn. _

Then he sat there wracking his brain, and finally tried a partial re-boot…."C:\REGENERATEINIS_TRON-bk"

Which came back as, "_error::does not comply sequence.v=identity mistaken or unknown."

_Oh come on!…What the -?…_

He sighed. This was getting absolutely nowhere. He couldn't even understand what the system was telling him, or the language it was trying to speak in. Finally he switched back to one of the LISP subprotocols, an obscure one which sometimes worked as a type of digital skeleton key. A long shot, but maybe it would work.

(define prg+

(lambda (vec 17 vec 7)

(73.12.9.) = path

Yep. It worked. He got in.

The monitor scrolled through a series of algorithms and then its findings flashed on the screen:

_db-identified::RINZLER__

He sat back, staring at the word. _Rinzler._

_Holy freaking crap. Well,… there we go_.

Stubbornly Flynn kept working with sequences and commands, until he was able to initialize a defragmenting process. It would take quite a while to complete, but it would leave the file structure intact without damaging any of the memory or personality, however unstable it was at present. And it would likely isolate the virus, the mutation, or whatever it was that caused this program to call itself Rinzler._  
This isn't Rinzler. It only thinks it's Rinzler.  
This is Tron. And we're gonna bring him back._

Once the system had begun the defragmentation on Tron's master chip, Kevin sat back in the chair, rubbing tired eyes. _Long day. Or, night,…whatever_.

He laughed to himself, suddenly thinking of Alan Bradley…remembering how so many years ago Alan would always come into the lab just when Kevin was tired and had been working on some marathon programming process for hours on end, and Alan would try to persuade him to take a break._...come on, Kevin, let's go have a drink, wanna go to a bar, maybe catch the game?… and _Flynn's answer would always be the same, every time, which made him wonder sometimes if Alan was either not listening or else was simply asking the same question over and over just to yank his chain…. _Thanks Alan, but you know I don't drink, man. Bars aren't my thing._ Usually they'd agree on going to get dinner though – Kevin loved the health food place, which Alan would scoff at, so then they'd go on a take-out mission…veggies for Kevin, a pizza for Alan…and then both of them would wind up bringing dinner right back here to this place. Well, to what this place was once, in the user world.

Here in this world it wasn't quite the same. And of course there was no Alan. The closest thing to Alan was Tron, Alan's likeness who lay unresponsive and offline, thinking it's name was Rinzler.

The years had been erased from him as well by the reintegration, and it was so very surreal, the three of them all here, all young again,…it reminded Flynn of the old times in the user world, and the old times here, back before all of this started. Flynn caught himself imagining how great it would be if Tron would just get up off the table and say something typically Tron-like. Or even something Alan-like. Then he laughed at the sudden thought of Tron suddenly regaining consciousness and wanting a pizza.

_Okay, man, …now you're really starting to sound tired…_

And he was tired. Some rest would be a spectacular idea, as would be some nourishment, even such as it was in this world, but neither of those things were really an option right now…he wasn't stepping outside the door to find a café, nor was he closing his eyes to sleep. Not until they'd safely brought Tron back, and not until he was able to analyze Clu's codings, to make sure the program wasn't going to go haywire again. Until then he wasn't leaving Clu alone with Tron - too many unknowns, and he had long since learned that in this world too many unknowns often opens the door for complete and utter chaos. He'd had quite enough of that for one lifetime.

And so right now, rest was out of the question.

But,…meditation, now there was an idea. He had plenty of time to wait while the defrag process ran. Meditation would help clear his head, and would likely also give him the renewed energy he would need to see this through. He stood up, stretched his limbs, and looked over to see Clu standing across the small lab, idly examining the housing of the non-operational digitizing laser. Clu seemed to be looking for something to occupy his time while waiting, and this gave Flynn an idea.

_**"Clu?…come on. 'Wanna show you something…."**_ He said, walking to a large cabinet and opening it. Sure enough, the objects he was hoping to find were there on the shelf …two small black chromed spheres which emanated a bluish-white light when he touched them and rang with a very soft chiming when he shook them. The Grid's equivalent of Chinese Baoding balls.

Clu's face lit up when he saw them. _**"I recognize those! I have some as well**__…__**got really good at working them, especially while watching the games…they gave me something to do. "**_

Flynn had that look again. A wry smile and a frown combined, which usually heralded some sort of smart remark or reprimand to follow.

"_**Yeah….well…..that's not what they're actually for, Clu…"**_ Flynn placed the shiny spheres in Clu's palm, _**"..but I never taught you that part. So… I'm going to teach you now. It's about not doing...…clear your mind of everything. Everything except working these around in your hand, and the sound they make. Allow yourself to think about only that. Then once you've got them going, stop thinking about them. Stop thinking about anything. Listen to the sound, and… just be."**_

"_**But…what's the point in that?…"**_ Clu looked at him as though he'd just said the most absurd thing ever.

Kevin gave a small grin, _**"You'll see."**_

Then he turned and walked back towards the interface table. Sitting down in the chair he peeled off his riding boots, then pulled his feet up and twined his legs into a lotus position.

Long moments went by. He had just about relaxed completely, almost tuning out everything, almost drifting away into the comfort of familiar Zen, when the sudden loud sound of Clu's voice next to him nearly scared him out of his chair.

_**"Kevin Flynn?…"**_

Flynn gasped and jumped involuntarily, then frowned angrily at the program who stood beside the chair staring down at him.

_**"Jeez, Clu!…"**_ and then he sighed, composing himself, _**"…What is it?…"**_

"_**I'm…bored."**_

"_**Okay…well,…thanks for sharing that. But man,…next time-…next time could you maybe not sneak up on me?…"**_

"_**I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to,…" **_Clu gave an innocent look, then simply placed the chromed spheres on the desk and continued matter-of-factly, _**"I'm not sure I'm ready for 'not doing' right now. But thank you for teaching me, Kevin Flynn."**_

"_**You're welcome. No sweat. We'll work with that some more later….but,…"**_ Flynn paused, closing his eyes and running a hand across his weary forehead, _**"Clu – how long have we known each other now?…don't you think you could just call me Kevin?…"**_

Clu responded almost instantly, _**"Two hundred and sixteen thousand cycles…"**_ and then he paused, giving a slight nod as his lips curled into a grin, _**"…and,...no sweat, Kevin."**_

Kevin couldn't help but laugh at the way Clu picked up expressions and mannerisms from him so easily, much like an observant and impressionable child would. With Clu around, he was going to have to watch his language.

_**"Well,…if you don't mind,… I really need to kick back here, and not do for a little while."**_

Clu nodded, and pointed back towards the doorway which led to the main arcade, _**"If you don't mind, I'd like to check out those games again…the one with the circle that eats dots and runs from the ghosts amuses me."**_

Kevin chuckled_,__** "You mean Pac Man?…yeah, that is pretty funny… the kids always liked that one. You should try Kraz-Bot too. And of course… there's the Tron game…"**_

Clu nodded. _**"Yes,…I was noticing that one when we came in…doesn't seem like it would be too difficult of a game to learn…"**_ he chuckled, walking towards the doorway, then turned back to look at Kevin and shrugged, _**"…or maybe it just seems so much easier, being on this side of the screen."**_

Kevin's jaw almost dropped to the floor. _**"Yeahhh…it-…it probably does…"**_

He stared at Clu, squinting his eyes a bit as he studied him, and he could tell from the program's innocent demeanor that he had no idea of the significance of what he had just quoted almost verbatim - he had just thought it was his own thought. And that was what was so weird.

Still a bit stunned, he watched Clu walk through the doorway, then returned to his attempts at meditation, his mind still quizzing over the uncanny comment.

He tried to put it out of his thoughts, but, sometimes 'not thinking' was even tougher than 'not doing', and this was one of those times. Nevertheless, it was time to get back to his Zen place, to center and refresh himself. He would need it for what they were about to undertake.


	5. Chapter 5

Kevin finally opened his eyes, resting his head against the back of the chair. He felt peaceful, content to simply look at the wall in front of him, and as he so often did when he completed a meditation, he reflected for a moment on the things for which he was grateful. Foremost of those being, the gift of opportunity disguised as hardship. And if there was one good thing which had come of his years spent imprisoned in the Grid, it was the opportunity to become very proficient at meditation. And that he certainly had, in order to cope with what his world had become, and in order to survive it. This had taught him many things, among them being, the delicate and impossible art of removing oneself from the equation, and the humble practice of knocking on the sky and listen to the sound.

He smiled to himself as he recalled a memory, something he'd once told Quorra, …_There are two ways to seek knowledge through meditation…you can knock on the sky and listen to the sound,…or,…you can sit patiently and wait for the sky to fall. Either way, you're going to get answers. I prefer to knock. It's faster. And sometimes, less dangerous…  
_

Sometimes he would knock, meaning to meditate on a specific problem or situation while asking for Divine guidance with it, but in this instance, however, he was content to wait for the sky to fall, to simply be and wait, to not really ask anything, and instead to just trust that the questions he needed to ask would come soon enough. Then would come the answers.

He sat forward in the chair, taking a deep breath, then began to put on his boots. A glance at the screen and he was surprised to see that the defrag progress bar was showing 93% complete.

_Well that was fast…how long did I meditate for?…an hour?…two?…  
_

He looked around. Clu wasn't in the room. Standing up, he walked over to where the wounded Tron lay motionless. Kevin placed a hand on the forehead, carefully avoiding the damaged areas where pixels had been torn away. He spoke in a soft voice scarcely above a whispered thought… _**"We're gonna bring you back from this,…I promise…first I just gotta figure out how to repair you safely, that's all…"  
**_

Part of him wasn't completely sure if he was talking to reassure Tron, or to reassure himself. There was so much damage he had to repair here, both with Tron and with The Grid. It didn't matter that it was damage he didn't cause, that he'd been just as much a hostage as everyone else in the game. What mattered was that he was now the only one who could repair the damage and prevent it from happening again in the future.  
As he looked at Tron now on the table, he thought of days gone by. If he had known back then what he knew now, he would have foreseen the damage long before it ever got started. And none of this would have happened. But, life, as they say, must be lived forward.

Taking another deep breath, he walked away from the table, and stopped by the desk…95% complete. _Almost there.  
_

Walking through the open doorway leading to the arcade, he peered around the corner, then had to stifle a laugh as he saw Clu intently staring at the screen on a particular vintage game machine, totally absorbed and feverishly tapping on the controls. This was definitely a surreal sight. Grinning, he walked slowly over to stand just behind him, and then spoke with a slight falsetto chuckle in his voice.

"_**Q-Bert?…are you serious?…"  
**_

Clu jumped and whirled around, completely startled, and then frowned his displeasure at having been startled. Kevin shrugged and offered a meek smile in apology, but Clu turned right back to the game and continued playing, grumbling as he lost the turn. Then he slammed his hand on the side of the machine.

"_**Agh!…This is infuriating!…"**_ Clu turned to Kevin and pointed at the screen, _**"…there's no way to win this! I've tried! That ridiculous springing thing keeps bouncing around and negating everything just when I start to make progress!…"  
**_

Kevin finally just had to burst into laughter, which made Clu stare at him incredulously. He suppressed most of the laughter and leaned against the side of the machine, still grinning.

"_**That's Coily, man,….that's just what he does. He's a snake, by the way."  
**_

But Clu just stared at him, then spoke with disgust as he looked back at the machine, _**"What is a 'snake'?  
**_

"_**Oh,…it's a user-world thing…an animal…reptile…it's-… you know what, nevermind…"**_ he cleared his throat, and crossed his arms, chuckling again, _**"…his name is Coily,…and that's what he's supposed to do…bounce around and turn things around. Makes it a challenge."  
**_

Clu sulked, crossing his arms in a gesture which mimicked Kevin's.

"_**Too much of one. I can't see the point in playing a game that's unwinnable."  
**_

Kevin thought it, but didn't speak it – _and now you know how we all felt, on the Grid…  
_

Instead he just kept grinning at Clu, arms crossed, leaning his chin against his hand, and then he gestured with a nod towards the machine, _**"And yet you've been playing this for-…you've been playing this the whole time you've been out here, haven't you?…"  
**_

He laughed again, as Clu nodded sternly. Then he leaned away from the machine and patted Clu on the back, walking a few steps back towards the doorway to the lab.

"_**Well,…give it a rest, man…before you give yourself gray hair…"  
**_

Clu looked at him, puzzled. Kevin didn't bother to explain what gray hair was, and instead just smiled and waved towards the lab.

"_**Come on back in…the defrag's almost done…and then we can start to-"  
**_

Kevin's voice stopped cold, and his smile evaporated as he looked towards the ceiling, eyes narrowing. There was a distinct rumble coming from above, and he'd felt it resonating under his feet even before he heard it. Now it was growing louder, shaking the building slightly.

He looked at Clu, and Clu looked at him, both of them recognizing the ominous sound. This was not good.

_Recognizer.  
_

Clu turned and ran to the front door, staring through the glass panes at the very familiar behemoth which was hovering over the middle of the street. Kevin joined him at the door, muttering as he stared up at the Recognizer, _**"Waiting for the sky to fall…yeah, this wasn't what I meant…" **_then he turned to Clu, suddenly frowning, _**"I thought you said you called them off?"  
**_

"_**I did call them off!…"**_ Clu still stared up at the Recognizer, confused, his eyes widening when he caught a glimpse of the unfamiliar operators. Something was very very wrong. Then he was backing away from the door, with a look Kevin Flynn had never seen on the system administrator's face before. It looked a lot like panic. His voice was adamant.  
"_**I did call them off, Kevin!…That isn't my Black Guard!…I don't know who, or what, that is!…"  
**_

Kevin looked back at the street. Whatever it was, it was going to pay them a visit if he didn't do something. He really didn't want to have to play the Creator card and create undue chaos but there wasn't much choice_**. "Clu, go back into the lab!…I'll follow you!…"  
**_

Clu turned and ran, and Kevin pressed his hands against the glass on the front door. He concentrated, focusing all of his will until the glass vibrated, and then a gale wind swept through the streets, knocking over several large pillars over by the bridge, which captured the attention of the operators on the Recognizer, and suddenly the enormous thing levitated up over the street then zoomed off towards the direction of the bridge. He ran quickly to the back of the arcade, stopping to lay a hand down over the floor beside the Tron machine, and then leapt inside the doorway to the lab just before the entrance was obscured and sealed off.

Slightly winded, he turned to Clu, who stared at him with alarm.

"_**It's alright… we're protected… as long as we stay in here… but…" **_he paused, shaking his head, then threw his arms up in the air, frustrated. So much for the peace from his meditation. He looked back towards the sealed off doorway, then up at the ceiling, "…_**what-…what the hell IS this?…"  
**_

Clu's face was more ashen than Kevin had ever seen it, and there was something akin to real fear in his eyes as he answered with a wary look, _**"From the way you once described the meaning of the word,… that may be exactly what this is – hell."  
**_

Kevin stared back at him, completely at a loss for words.


	6. Chapter 6

Defragmentation 100% complete

No active virus found

1,717 contaminated clusters found and quarantined

Perform allocation unit check? Y or N?_

The blinking cursor beckoned, and Kevin typed "N", then retrieved the chip from the data port. Allocation checking wasn't going to make a difference – he knew the problem wasn't structural, but an issue of programming now that the clusters were contained. It was time to get on with this, to get the chip replaced in the disk, and at least try to repair Tron's immediate injuries first. Then he could try to repair the memory and reorder the personality, if those things were even going to be possible to begin with.

But first he had to address the issue of the disk's discombobulated operating system codings. He sat idle for several minutes with the disk casing open, studying the configuration. His thoughts were still burdened and unsettled by the appearance of the Recognizer, and while working with computer languages often calmed and focused him, this on the other hand was a lot like learning to read a foreign language in a foreign country with no translation dictionary, while sequestered away in a bomb shelter during a war. Finally he executed a series of commands he hoped would work, and then closed the casing with a crisp 'snap' sound.

Clu had been standing against the far wall of the lab for quite a while, deep in thought, ruminating over what had happened, and working the chromed spheres absently around in the palm of his hand. Hearing the loud 'snap' jarred him back to attention in the here and now, and he walked over to the table where Kevin stood with Tron's disk in hand.

"_**Hope this worked… guess we're gonna find out…"**_ Kevin said, as he began pressing a series of sequences on the four buttons located near the inside perimeter of Tron's disk. Glancing up at Clu for a brief second, he continued speaking as he worked, _**"…you ok, Clu?… You're awfully quiet."**_

After a considerable pause, Clu answered simply,_** "…Yes…"**_ in a droll voice, but he didn't volunteer more than that, and when Kevin looked up at him again he saw a simmering anger pass across the program's already somber features. Then Clu walked back over to lean against the wall, and simply stared down at the shiny spheres in his palm, his jaw set. He stared at them, then placed one sphere in each hand, his hands closing into fists over them, and just stood there looking down at the floor.

Kevin watched him for a moment, then went right back to the sequencing. A moment later he turned, leaning over Tron's still form and replacing the disk in its docking bay. He gently rolled Tron onto his back, and stood watching. Seconds went by - nanocycles, as most in this world called them – and nothing appeared to be happening. Nothing at all. He sighed, hopes slowly sinking.

But then something happened…the pixelated and derezzed areas on Tron's head and face began shimmering at the edges, and then slowly pixels began reappearing, reordering themselves. Kevin breathed a sigh of relief and mouthed a silent _"Yes!"…_ This meant Tron's system was rebooting and repairing itself from the core. In a matter of a few minutes or possibly as long as an hour, Kevin wasn't sure which, Tron would surface to consciousness, and that would be the moment of truth. Then they would know just what was left of Tron, and what - if anything - was left of Rinzler.

Kevin heaved another sigh of tremendous relief and turned around, looking towards Clu, _**"It worked. At least, partially…so far…very soon we'll know how badly he was damaged, in the ways we can't see…"**_

Clu looked up at him, and nodded in acknowledgement. But he didn't smile. Behind his eyes there were storm clouds. Kevin knew those clouds fairly well…as well as he knew that face. He crossed his arms and walked slowly over to where the program stood, and just looked at him, waiting. He had a hunch that if he stood there long enough, Clu would eventually blurt out what was on his mind.

And boy was he right.

Clu stood staring at him with intense eyes, and then launched into an angry tirade.

"_**This isn't the way it's supposed to be!…there is no 'order' anymore!…this isn't the world you asked me to help you create!…I controlled this system, I ran this system, I created perfection, I did everything you asked, and then you took that away from me!…you took everything away from me!…"**_

Clu paused, looking down at the onyx tile floor, his hands closing again tightly, smothering the chromed spheres, _**"…and now look at what has happened – the Recognizer, a new guard, something else has taken control!… we don't even know what!…and they're hunting us - US, Kevin!…the system isn't even ours anymore!…"**_

Kevin sighed. He looked down at the floor, then back up at Clu. Trying to be patient, he spoke, calm compassion in his voice.

"_**I know, Clu…I hear you,….but…did-…did you ever think maybe…it wasn't ever ours to start with?…"**_

Clu glared at him defiantly, nearly spitting his words through his clenched jaw. _**"Of course it was ours!…."**_

Kevin raised a hand, trying to diffuse some of Clu's outrage with reason, _**"Look,…hear me out, man…"**_ he stepped closer to the angry program, _**"…we discovered a world here, man,..I- I discovered this world…but,…it- it was here before I got here…and - … okay,… the ISO's? – yeah, I know they're gone, except for Quorra,… but…where do you think they all came from to begin with, Clu?…"**_

Clu didn't answer, only continued staring at him intensely, but Kevin could see his words had sent the program into deeper spirals of thought.

Kevin sighed, and drove his point home, _**"I'm trying to tell you there were variables we could never have foreseen, Clu. Unknowns. There still are…obviously….…and those variables have created whatever's in control now. We were never in control of things – we only thought we were." **_

This did not calm Clu. Instead his eyes flew wide, his brow furrowed, and he raised his voice.

"_**YES we WERE, Kevin Flynn!…you are wrong about that!…and even if perfection wasn't attainable…IF you had let me keep doing my job, I could have prevented this from happening!…I know I could have!"**_

Clu continued to stand there and fume quietly, frowning.

Kevin raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the outburst of nonlinear illogic. He could tell Clu wasn't even fully believing his own rap. He was just angry, and not liking the feeling of not being in control.

Kevin wasn't quite sure how best to get through to him, but he knew this outburst was so very counterproductive to what they needed to be doing that he had to find some way. The more he thought about it, all roads seemed to lead once again to his playing the Creator card…but if he kept that up, he was going to start feeling like God, which was ironic, because, not only was he unqualified, but, if he truly were God, he never would have let any of this get to this point. But then he thought, _maybe this isn't as much like playing God as it is like being a father._ True, a father with extraordinary abilities and a very misguided son, but, like it or not, he was a sort of father to Clu.

He sighed again. By now, much of Clu's rage had dissolved into simply angst and frustration, and Kevin could see that when he locked eyes with him. He stepped closer to Clu, raised his eyebrows, and the corner of his mouth quirked into a wry half-smile. This was like talking to the teenager again. He softened his voice.

"…_**Clu…ya' trust me… right?…..c'mon, I know you do…"**_

Clu acquiesced with only the slightest dip of his chin. Kevin knew that was a 'yes'. He took a deep breath.

"_**Okay…Clu,…just hang with me here and listen, okay?…you- you're learning so much, so fast, and… we're having to deal with so much crap right now, and,… I know it's a lot, buddy,… I do. But you're growing, and I'm starting to think whatever corrupted you is gone…. I don't think there's anything wrong with you that we can't fix, together,… by talking,… just like this.…."**_

By now Clu was looking at him a bit warily but intently, almost searching his eyes, the traces of his former anger having given way to mere uneasiness. Kevin continued speaking, gently resting his hands on Clu's shoulders as he spoke.

"_**Now…..I also know that no matter what you say,… ya know you screwed up,… just like I know I screwed up….okay?…So I'm not gonna' stand here and argue with you,…or try to tell you all the ways why doing things the way you were doing them before isn't going to work…"**_

Kevin paused, again locking eyes with Clu, _**"…I'm going to show you..."**_

He had Clu's trust right now, and he knew it. He placed his hands on either side of Clu's head, gently, and gave him a slight nod, _**"…okay?..."**_

Clu answered with a slight nod of his own, though his face was still a bit somber.

Kevin stared at him, concentrating his energy, and Clu felt a slight current pass from Kevin's hands to his own head.

And then Kevin watched as Clu seemed to be dreaming while awake …his eyes seemed to stare off in the distance, his brow furrowing, his face reacting with what looked like real emotion, reacting to what he was seeing take place before his eyes…_Clu was seeing excerpts of everything which had transpired on the Grid and all through the city…all that his choices and actions had caused…all the damage the Black Guard had done…all the programs who had suffered, been exiled, derezzed, repurposed,…all their pain, loss, fear… all of it was passing into Clu's A.I. awareness and then dissipating in lightning-fast clusters of information, too many to even be aware of at once…not enough to do any damage to his coding, but just enough to show him how very wrong things had been under his command…_

Kevin let go of Clu's head gently, and looked at him with compassionate eyes, as Clu stared back at him, his face stricken with shock. Then, something extraordinary happened – something Kevin had a feeling was possible all along – Clu's eyes suddenly filled with tears. Real tears, real emotions, real awareness. What happened next surprised Kevin even more, as Clu stared at him, the tears rolling down his cheeks, and then simply hung his head and cried.

After a moment, Kevin stepped forward and gently embraced Clu, this identical twin who was so very much like a lost and wayward son, and simply let him weep. When his grief had finally subsided, he stepped back and looked at Kevin, and in a voice scarcely above a shaky whisper, he said simply, _**"I…am…sorry."**_

Kevin only nodded compassionately, and said, _**"Me too."**_

Clu was taken aback by his own tears, and he dabbed at them, first with a hand, then with the sleeve of his jacket, then he looked back at Kevin with a puzzled look, but Kevin just smiled in acknowledgement, _**"…yeah…it's weird… I know…but we users do the same thing too, sometimes. It's normal. Somewhere around here there's probably some tissue…"**_

Kevin turned to start toward the supply cabinet, but then stopped when he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked toward the table where Tron lay. His brows shot upward, and he smiled, then he looked back at Clu, gesturing towards the table with a nod of his head.

"_**Hey,…look who's awake…"**_


	7. Chapter 7

Kevin walked over to the table, a warm smile spreading across his face as Tron slowly turned his head to look at him.

"_**Hey,…hey, you're awake…" **_Kevin leaned down to him, smiling,_** "…do-…do you know who I am?…"**_

For long moments Tron stared at him strangely, and then his expression lightened. Slowly, he formed the words as though he were learning to speak them for the first time. _**"Kevvv…innn….Flllyyynnn…"**_

Kevin's smile beamed, and his eyes filled involuntarily with tears. Aside from the sound of his son's first cry at birth, this was probably the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Tron was back, and knew who he was.

"_**That's right, buddy…it's me…Kevin. How… are you feeling?…"  
**_

Tron didn't answer, just looked at him inquisitively with wide eyes.

Just then, Clu took a step forward, and spoke, his voice sounding as awkward as he felt, _**"…what… happened to you?…and…where's your other disk?…"  
**_

Kevin rolled his eyes, and turned to look at Clu. He didn't speak, but his expression made it clear he was ever so slightly annoyed. _  
Nice bedside manner, Clu…is that really what you wanna' ask him first thing right after he wakes up?  
_

Quickly glancing to follow the voice, Tron stared at Clu, and then from his throat came a low threatening purr, a chilling sound which brought the worst of Kevin's suspicions seeping to the forefront of his thoughts. Kevin closed his eyes momentarily, wishing he had not heard what he just heard. _  
Yep._ _Rinzler's in there too. But who's in control? And what's this about another disk?_

Just then, Tron/Rinzler made the growling purring noise again.

"_**That…sounds like… a very big cat,"**_ Kevin mused to himself softly, opening his eyes to look at Tron, trying not to let his concern show on his face. Tron only yawned and closed his eyes.

Meanwhile Clu picked up on Kevin's softly-spoken comment, and responded by rattling off a random factoid from his memory's database. _**"CAT…computed axial tomography."**_

Kevin turned and stared at him, momentarily puzzled.

"_**Huh?..…uh,…no, Clu,…. 'cat' - small furry animal….you know, a feline?…."**_ he paused, noting Clu's blank expression, then waved it off, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, _**"Man, never mind,…'soon as the rush is over, we need to hip you to the concept of Zoology. That, and,…some tact. "  
**_

Kevin sighed again, watching Tron seem to drift back to sleep, then continued in a softer voice, _**"…for right now, maybe cryptozoology is what we need to focus on. Looks like he wants to rest some more…but I may need to check his chip again. Definitely something off-kilter in his programming. I bet it's something embedded, masking as something else, and - "**_

But just then Tron/Rinzler opened his eyes, and grabbed Kevin's arm with a frantic grip, his face fraught with unspeakable fear, desperation. The words which now tumbled from his lips were not slow or measured, but instead rife with desperation, disjointed, skipping and repeating, stuttering here and there. It was like hearing jumbled parts of some word puzzle, or a broken record.

"…_**Tron!… rec-…recognize!…fight for…users…fight… know … sea, survive… gone… far… return… near… recognize!…know …sea… listen…modify… rectify… silent…afraid… deresolution…afraid…Clu …afraid… recognize…afraid… hurt…modify…rectify.….…silent…"  
**_

With that, Tron/Rinzler winced as if in pain, then sighed and turned his head to look at the wall.

Kevin placed a hand gently on his shoulder, _**"Tron…it's ok…its all ok… Clu's not going to hurt you…and… this is Kevin, buddy, you can tell me - …you can tell me anything…. Tron,… what happened to you?… who did this?…"**_

But the program only continued staring at the wall.

"_**Are you hurting?…"**_ Kevin asked gently.

Tron/Rinzler shook his head as if to say 'no'. So Kevin leaned down to him, and spoke softly.

"_**Tron,… … do….do you know who did this to you?…I can help you…but you have to tell me…we need to know…"  
**_

No reply. But Tron/Rinzler looked at him, again with the look of unspoken desperation. Finally he opened his mouth and said, _**"…Emm-"**_ but then stopped abruptly.

"_**Emm?…" **_Kevin repeated, then paused, slightly puzzled, before urging him gently to continue, "_**Emm?.…Emm who, Tron?…Who is that?…"  
**_

Tron/Rinzler shook his head 'no' again, staring back at Kevin with intense, nervous eyes. Then suddenly he blurted out three letters, _**"M-C-P!…" **_

But the moment after he spoke, he doubled up as if in pain, and his eyes wrenched shut to withstand it. Then as quickly as that had happened, the program opened his eyes again and relaxed back down onto the table. He gave another low growling purr, yawned, and then closed his eyes again.

Feeling a chill run through him, Kevin turned to Clu, who simply raised an eyebrow, a puzzled look on his face. Kevin didn't like the sound of this. If Tron/Rinzler's codings weren't simply causing him to hallucinate from shock, then it might explain a bit more clearly just who – or what - might now be controlling the Grid. _The Master Control Program. _How that was even possible, he didn't know, because he'd thought the MCP was supposedly long gone. But then again, stranger things had happened.

Kevin walked to the far side of the room, beckoning Clu to follow. Then he spoke to Clu very quietly, in almost a whisper. _**"I don't know about this MCP thing…he could just be having some sort of…I don't know,… flashback… from what happened long ago. But,…hey,…what- …what's that you asked him, …about his 'other disk'…?"**_

Clu looked at him strangely, then he spoke in a voice which matched Kevin's almost-whisper, _**"He is supposed to have two disks,…well, one disk, but it detaches into two halves…the better to fight with, undefeated…"**_

Kevin stared back at Clu incredulously, his brow furrowing into a frown. It was hard to keep his voice from raising in frustration when he spoke, _**"…Clu,…um,..… you think-…you think you might've…maybe… MENTIONED that to me,… at some point?…like,…...BEFORE NOW, MAYBE?…"**_

Clu stared back at Kevin innocently, seeming slightly aloof, _**"I…thought you knew."**_

Kevin's eyes went wide. He stared back at Clu for a moment, then gestured both arms out beside him and shook his head, speaking in an irritated half-whisper, _**"Man - why does everybody think I just-...just magically 'know' stuff?...…NO Clu, I didn't know!…"**_

Kevin turned around. He thought for a moment, staring at Tron/Rinzler. There had only been one part to the disk, no detachable halves. He was sure of that. He looked back at Clu, reclaiming his patience and speaking softly, _**"Okay,…so,…if he normally has two halves to his disk…then,… why is only one here now?…**_

Suddenly he and Clu somehow both made the same intuitive quantum leap to the same conclusion, voicing the query almost in unison,_** "…because that's not his disk?..."**_

Staring at Clu, his expression turned more intense as he absorbed the possibilities of what this might mean. Clu looked back at him, mirroring his expression. And then Kevin's mind raced through intuition to the next conclusion and spoke, _**"We need to get that disk off of him, now!"**_

Kevin walked back over to where the sleeping program lay. Leaning down, he spoke softly to Tron/Rinzler, _**"Hey,…buddy?"**_ Tron/Rinzler's eyes opened sleepily, and Kevin continued, _**"It's okay. I know you wanna rest…I'm just gonna' roll you onto your side here, buddy,… okay?…"**_

Tron didn't reply, only gave a slight nod and closed his eyes again. Just as Kevin began to carefully nudge him to roll him over, the program yawned and rolled onto his side of its own accord, then sighed and went back to sleep again. Kevin looked at Clu, exhaling a silent "whew" of relief. _That was easier than I thought it would be. _ Then he carefully reached to Tron/Rinzler's back, detaching the disk.

He walked across the room and handed it to Clu, with a raised eyebrow, _**"Look closely. This isn't the same disk you gave him,… is it?..."**_

Clu inspected the disk, his eyes poring over every detail of it's exterior before pressing the release button which should have split it into two halves. When sure enough that failed, he pried open the cover to access the inside of the disk, then his eyes narrowed and he looked back up at Kevin, speaking matter-of-factly.

"_**No. It isn't. It's a replica. I didn't look at it closely enough before, when you had it open, but,… no, this isn't the same disk. And this one has definitely been altered."**_

Kevin nodded. He stood thinking of what to do next. _Oh why couldn't you have told me that before we defragmented the chip in this disk.  
_

Then his eyes widened, and the realization hit him. He blurted it aloud to Clu, _**"That's it! – the chip!…I defragmented the chip from this disk… in the mainframe…and… that's how the Recognizer knew where to find us!…This disk has…some sort of tracking code in it….which means,…"**_

Clu finished the thought, _**"Which means whoever put it there will follow it wherever it goes."**_

Kevin leaned wearily against the interface desk, trying to process what this meant for them.  
Meanwhile Clu stared at the sleeping Tron/Rinzler, then he looked at Kevin and spoke, _**"That reminds me,….something I meant to ask you before,…"  
**_

"…_**what's that?…"**_ Kevin rubbed at his tired eyes.

Clu continued, walking over to the desk, _**"why,…did he come here?…to this arcade?… do you suppose that whoever or whatever did this,..did this to him here?...or else then left him here?"  
**_

Kevin shook his head somberly. _**"Well, the thought had occurred,…but,…no…. I think he came here after…well,… after whatever happened to him happened…. I think he was trying to get back to me."  
**_

"_**To you?…" **_Clu tilted his head, still not comprehending. _**"But… you live in the Outlands, far from here."  
**_

Kevin looked up at Clu, nodding, _**"Yeah,… but… I used to live here once,…back when I first came to the Grid… back before everything started going down- "**_ he stopped mid-sentence, rethinking.  
_No need to belabor history, Flynn, what's done is done._

Then he continued, looking sadly over at the sleeping program, _**"…I think he was trying to find me….and this-… this was the only place he knew to come to. Because he felt safe here."**_

Clu nodded, looking down at the floor. The tragic gravity of the situation was starting to sink in. Tron had never been anyone's property…especially not to repurpose, to tranform into Rinzler as he had. Tron had been more than just a strong hero who fought for the Users - he had been a friend to both himself and Flynn, and he had been an honorable program with much compassion…a fighter when he had to be, but one who would never have hurt other innocent programs. Not of his own accord. Not until whatever had possessed Clu had twisted his mind into repurposing Tron to become Rinzler. And now, both Tron and Rinzler were one in the same, and had apparently been captured, repurposed, and enslaved yet again, to something else. Something sinister. Something Clu had no idea how to fight. Something even Kevin Flynn didn't seem to know how to fight.

Clu shuddered at that thought, wondering if maybe they were all about to be enslaved just like Tron – or Rinzler,…and that thought caused him to feel real fear, for the first time he could ever recall feeling it. Clu shook off the uneasy wonderings as best he could, then looked up just as Kevin was sitting down at the interface desk. Kevin's voice chased away the fear, by bringing him back to the here and now.

"_**Clu, I don't think we should stay here. We'd all be safer at my place in the Outlands, and,… we can figure things out from there…have food, shelter,…but,…"  
**_

Kevin paused, frowning, _**"But,…I don't think we should bring that "disk" of his with us,… yet he can't travel – or do anything, really, without it…."  
**_

Kevin stopped, then sat tapping his fingers on the desktop, staring down at nothing in particular, trying to think of something. Then he looked back up at Clu with a raised eyebrow. _**  
"What we need…is a plan." **_


	8. Chapter 8

Nearly an hour later, Kevin sat once again peering at the interior circuits of the disk which had been removed from Tron's back.

_Tron,…what has become of you?_

He wasn't going to call him Rinzler- he refused to.  
Rinzler, as far as Kevin Flynn was concerned, would always be thought of as merely a temporary aberration, a ghastly rewiring of what was once a kind and heroic program. And now it was his job to unwire that rewiring, rewire it again, and set things right, get Tron stabilized. Get him a new disk.  
_If I only knew how._

He still had no idea how they were even going to override the tracking device inside this disk, so that they could get to the safehouse without being followed. They hadn't yet come up with a plan. And he was very very tired.

He sat back in the chair, exhaling, and glanced over at Clu, who was once again absorbed in admiring the digitizing laser. Running a hand across the beam which held the lens, he looked at Kevin. _**"This is how you got here…and this is how Sam Flynn got here….why can't we use it to get you back to him, and your world?…to get all of us back to your world?"**_

Kevin sighed, his face a bit sad at the mention of his son.

"_**I don't know that we can't. But it takes a portal to do that,…and… until we get free from,…from,…"**_ he rolled his eyes, stuttering and gesturing frenetically while trying to find the right words to describe something the likes of which he could hardly even fathom, _**"…from… what-EVER it is that now has control,…there won't be a chance in hell we'll be able to open a portal. It won't be allowed."**_

Clu simply looked at him, thoughtful for a moment, then spoke again. _**"Kevin…do you regret coming here?…"**_

Kevin looked up from the disk again. That was an odd question for Clu to ask him now, after all these years.

"_**You mean 'here' as in,…the Grid?…this world?…"**_

Clu nodded.

Kevin paused for a moment, then gave a wry smile, the sadness still in his eyes.

"_**No,…no I don't…" **_he looked down at the disk again, then back at Clu, _**"I arrived here with only the noblest of intentions…ecstatic at having discovered a world I thought I'd never see. What it turned into,…what corruption was behind it all along,…that I couldn't have foreseen. But, no,…I don't regret it. Everything happens for a reason."**_

Clu nodded again. After a long pause, he asked, _**"…and, what about Sam?…do you regret it that …that I tricked him into coming here?…"**_ There was a hint of guilt in Clu's eyes, and he looked down at the floor after he asked the question, as though he fully expected Kevin to be angry with him.

But Kevin simply raised his brows, continuing with the wry smile, _**"Nope…nope, I sure don't….and let me tell you why…" **_Then he stood up from the chair, stretching his arms and walking over to stand beside the digitizing laser, gesturing towards it with his hand.

"_**Because, Clu,… had you not lured him here,… he would never have known any of this existed…nobody would have …and the last of the ISO's would never have been saved either, man,…not a soul would've ever known about any of it."**_

Kevin walked back to the desk but then turned, _**"…another thing,….'always had a hunch Encom folks mighta' leaked more than a few nasty untruths about me after my disappearance - just for spite…" **_

__He paused, waved his hand, not wanting to get into the long explanation,_** "…yeah,… Dillinger mainly…old grudge, doesn't like me, long story,….anyway,…and it would've tortured me to the last of my days to think that my family, my own son, might not even have known what to believe." **_

Sitting back down in the chair, he turned to Clu once more, and finally got to the point.

"_**But,…Clu,… because you tricked him into coming to the Grid,…now he finally knows the truth about what happened to me… he witnessed it first-hand…" **_he paused, chuckling at the irony of it,_** "…and… he took that truth with him, back into the User world. The beauty of it is,…no matter what happens to me here, that truth is still out there, with him. So,…yeah,…like I said,…everything happens for a reason,…you know?…."**_

Kevin finished speaking, chuckling again wryly to himself, but Clu still looked at the floor, somber. Remorse was written all over his face - at least from what Kevin could see of his face from that angle - but it also looked like Clu might be just feeling a bit sorry for himself too.

Kevin dipped his head, leaned sideways and grinned, trying to get Clu to look up at him.

"_**Hey,…you know,…man,…just any time you wanna quit standing around poking your lip out,…I could use your help over here…"**_

Clu finally looked up, and slowly broke into a reluctant grin himself. **_"You're making fun of me, Kevin Flynn." _**

Kevin's brows raised in mock surprise, and then he laughed, _**"Yeah?…gee, ya think?…I would ask, 'what was your first clue?'…but I think I've already tried that pun on you before. With a name like that, it's too easy, man."**_

Just then, Clu did something Kevin had never seen him do - he rolled his eyes and smirked. That was a true first, and it made him laugh even more because it was something he himself did quite often. Kevin pointed at the disk, _**"Alright, so, wanna help me figure out how to manually disable this tracking chip?…" **_

Clu shrugged, and stared at the pages of diagrams and equations Kevin had drawn. _**"Sure. But,…why not just write some code to block it's transmissions?…or to maybe redirect it somewhere else?…"**_

Kevin stared at him, and his draw jopped. A slow grin spread onto his face. _**"Clu,...you're a genius."**_


	9. Chapter 9

"_**Kevin Flynn!…"**_

Clu's sudden loud voice completely startled Kevin, who had dozed off to sleep at the interface desk.

"_**What! …WHAT! …"**_ Kevin jumped, nearly tipping the desk chair over, then caught the edge of the interface desk to stop himself from falling over backward. Heart pounding, he stood up and whirled around, blinking to full wakefulness. Clu was standing across the lab with Tron's disk and several objects laid out on the scanner table, grinning.

He loped across the room towards Clu, feeling more than a bit agitated. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and stared with a puzzled expression, his mouth slightly agape.

"_**Clu!… man! …is there some reason you enjoy scaring the freakin' life outta' me?…"**_

Kevin exhaled, then put his hands on his hips. _**"… and hey, … would you please stop using my full name all the time?…"**_

Clu didn't seem affected at all by Kevin's grumpy demeanor. Instead his voice was oddly cheery,_** "I'm sorry,…Kevin. But, you have to see this."**_

Kevin gave him a slight smirk, but then sighed. There was no need to take his fatigue and frustration out on the program. His expression softened, and he raked back his hair again, then rubbed his eyes. "_**Okay…what,…what is it?"**_

Clu reached to the pile of objects, picked up one of the loose triangular pieces of metal and held it up.

Kevin's head quirked to the side and he raised an eyebrow. "_**Yeah?… that's a hard-drive magnet. There's a whole box of 'em in the cabinet."**_  
He sighed, _**"…please tell me you didn't wake me up just to show me that?…"**_

Now it was Clu's turn to smirk._** "No. Watch this…"**_

Clu took his own disk from his back, held it up, and drew the magnet close to it. Kevin's eyes went wide, and he shook his head, started to say 'no', but it was too late – Clu pressed the magnet to one of the buttons at the center of his disk. The oddest thing happened…it extinguished the glow on the disk, and extinguished the illumination on his jacket and boots. Then when Clu removed the magnet, his disk and clothing re-lit itself. Clu grinned again.

Kevin stared, then reached for the disk. Clu handed it to him. He tried a sequence on the buttons to check the disk's stability, and sure enough nothing in its codings appeared to have been damaged. Then it occurred to him,…the place where Clu had stuck the magnet was next to the button which controlled several functions, including not only light emission intensity but also functions such as spatial positioning and disk-return on the games grid. Basically it was nothing but a sophisticated compass, and if the light emissions were inhibited by the magnet, the spatial positioning registers and signals would be too – which meant that with the aid of a magnet, a program could be basically invisible on the Grid, and possibly even to the Recognizers. And a tracking mechanism would likely be located in or near that same region of circuitry.

Kevin looked astounded, as he handed the disk back to Clu, _**"Could it really be that simple?…Why did I never think of that?…"**_

Clu didn't reply, just looked back at him, with a smug expression. It was clear that he was proud of himself for this discovery. Kevin took a deep breath then sighed, walking back towards the desk. The cursor on the monitor blinked, signaling that Tron's chip modifications were complete.

Ejecting the chip from the interface, he stood looking at the tiny piece of otherworldly digital wizardry, feeling a wave of sad irony as his thoughts suddenly wandered to his son back in the User world…he could only imagine how frustrating it must be for Sam, trying to convince people that the Grid exists. It had been frustrating enough for him, back during the days when he'd tried to expose the everyday, normal, worldly corruption at Encom - a move which he knew had something to do with his becoming trapped here. But this? The Grid? This was something far more complex, a truth far stranger than those simple truths had been, something he doubted folks would accept easily, if Encom would ever even allow it to be known at all. As idealistic as Kevin Flynn had once been, those days passed long ago. Now he wasn't sure the world was ready to accept what was going on here, or that it even wanted to be ready. From what Sam told him, the User world thinks their modern cellular phones and the internet are pretty much the final frontier. Little do they know.  
_They'll probably think this is all just science fiction. I wonder if they even believe you when you try to tell them, son? I pray to God they do.  
_

He tried to shake off the negative thoughts, telling himself it was just his tiredness thinking for him. But on some level, he knew all the rest in the world wasn't going to eclipse his worry that his son might possibly be discredited, scorned, even shamed for trying to tell the world about the Grid. History has a funny way of repeating itself.

Exhaling a sigh, Kevin walked across to where Tron lay resting, and motioned to Clu, _**"Would you mind handing me that disk? …I wanna' get this reinstalled, see if what we did makes a difference. It should stabilize him, … at least to the point that he can communicate with us."**_

A few moments later, he'd replaced the disk on Tron. Now they'd only have to wait for him to reboot and wake. But while he stood waiting, a thought suddenly occurred to Kevin, something which should have occurred to him before now….he'd given his disk to his son, before the reintegration…so how exactly was it that he'd awakened next to the Sea of Simulation, with a disk on his back?  
_I guess the next question would be, who put it there._

This was getting really too complex, and he didn't want to think about it.  
What he did want to think about was how the three of them were going to get out of the arcade and all the way to the safe house, before he fell over from exhaustion.  
_Man, I'm starving. Too bad we can't just digitize some veggies or something here._

This thought prompted him to ask Clu, just to pass the time, _**"Hey…Clu,…don't you ever eat?"**_

Clu looked up from the scanning table, seeming surprised by the question. _**"Of course I do. In fact a few bytes would be good right now."**_

Kevin raised an eyebrow, chuckling, _**"…cute joke. So what's your favorite food?"**_

Clu thought for a moment, then answered, _**"Raisins."**_

Kevin's eyes grew wide and he laughed, _**"Raisins?…just…raisins?"  
**_

Clu smirked a bit self-consciously, _**"Well, no, not just raisins,… but…I like them. They're very healthy you know, simple, and easy to eat. Lots of readily uploadable energy."**_

Kevin laughed again, shaking his head.  
_Man, you really are a chip off the old block._

Just then Tron stirred, and Kevin walked over to the table where he lay. Tron sat up, surprising them both, stretching his arms, then greeted them with a pleasant expression, somewhat stiffly but without a trace of Rinzler's purr.

_**"Hello, Kevin Flynn…hello, Clu, …. that was a very nice nap."**_

Kevin was a bit puzzled by Tron's odd demeanor, but he couldn't help but laugh with relief. He turned to Clu, grinning, _**"…jeez,… why does everybody wanna' call me by my full name?"**_

Tron hopped down off of the table, and looked around at the lab in wonder. _**"I haven't been here in a long time."**_

Kevin eyed him curiously. Tron's memory seemed to have not just been stabilized, but erased, or at least, parts of it.  
He shrugged, _**"Yeah, … well, …not much has changed, I guess … except maybe, everything."**_

Tron was still absorbed in looking around. Kevin smiled and patted him on the shoulder, then walked to the table where Clu had set aside the magnets.

"_**It's good to have you back, buddy, … 'sure got a lot to catch you up on,…," **_ he paused, picking up three of the magnets, _**"…but first, you, me and Clu here are goin' on a field trip … back to my place."**_

Tron looked at him, puzzled. _**"Your place? … I thought this was your place?"**_

Kevin hesitated, not wanting to get into the long explanation right now. There was too much else to do first.  
He simply nodded, _**"It was-….is-…um,…like I said, …lot's to catch you up on, pal…"**_

He walked to the doorway which led to the arcade. Clu followed, and Kevin handed him a magnet, _**"Here, stick this on,…we're gonna have to travel in the dark for a while."**_

Clu nodded, placing the magnet on his disk, and instantly his jacket's lights extinguished. As Tron approached curiously, Kevin motioned for him to turn around and then he stuck the magnet to his disk. Tron turned back around, staring down with alarm at his suit which no longer glowed with light.

Kevin patted him on the shoulder again, reassuringly, _**"Safety measure. Just gives us more of a low profile." **_

Tron didn't seem to get it, so Kevin simply nodded at him reassuringly,_** "It's no sweat … I'll explain later."**_

Kevin reached to his back, grabbing his own disk and adding the magnet, then replaced the disk in it's bay. Now all three of them were non-illumined. Opening the door to the arcade, Kevin motioned for Clu and Tron to pass, then he stepped to follow behind them, then stopped abruptly.

"…_**oops,…almost forgot – hang on one sec…"**_ Kevin ran back through the doorway, and over to the desk.  
After typing a few keyboard commands he stepped away from the interface and walked back through the doorway, sealing it behind him. The Tron videogame slid back into position obscuring the passageway and Kevin joined the other two in the arcade. As he'd expected, loud music now filled the room through the speaker system, the pre-recorded sounds of days gone by, all mixed together on the digital equivalent of a loop tape. He gave a soft chuckle at the old song which was playing - "Everybody Wants To Rule The World"_  
How appropriate._

Casting a glance outside the window on the front door, Kevin saw nothing but quiet deserted streets and skies. Opening the door, he motioned to Clu and Tron, and the three of them stepped out into the night. Kevin had no idea how long it was going to take them on foot, but there wasn't much of a choice.  
_The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step._


	10. Chapter 10

The three figures moved steadily and almost imperceptibly along dimly lit side-streets. When they absolutely had to venture across the more illuminated main thoroughfares they did so as quickly as possible, appearing as little more than fleeting shadows against the vast neon city skyline.

They'd managed to make it a little over a third of the way to the Grid. It seemed like they'd been walking for days on end, though in reality Kevin knew it was probably no more than a few hours - he'd long since lost the ability to accurately judge the passing of time here anyway, what with the constant night and no days or sunlight – just as he knew that at the rate they were going, it would take them the equivalent of roughly two days to reach the Outlands - and that was assuming they didn't meet with any unwanted company along the way.

"_Are you tired, Kevin Fl-…I mean,… Kevin?…"_

Hearing Clu correct himself in such a way made Kevin smile. Something about it was endearing. He nodded, chuckling.

"…_Tired?… You have no idea. I may look young again on the outside, but I sure don't feel it."_

Tron captured their attention just then, by stopping and pointing to something across the street from where they were…. a large building which had a darkened area behind it. The whole place seemed a bit run down and abandoned, and not a feature or window on it was illuminated.

"_That spot might be appropriate for a brief rest. Some refuge perhaps?"_ Tron asked, still pointing. Kevin and Clu stopped too, each looking at the heavily shadowed lot.

Kevin squinted to get a better look at the desolate property. Nothing about it looked too overtly threatening, and when lightning flashed he could see there wasn't really anything there except an empty lot. Then he shrugged, _"Well…I don't see why not. At least for a little while."_

They'd just started to cross the street when suddenly Clu's whispered voice startled them both, _"Holy crap!…"_

Kevin was surprised to hear Clu use one of his own longtime favorite slang terms, and he was just about to make some witty comment when instantly Clu was grabbing both him and Tron by the arm, pulling them backward and dragging them up against the shadowed walls of the building they'd just passed. Tron and Kevin both managed a surprised, _"What?"_ at about the same time, but then Clu's voice hissed at them.

"_Shh!…don't move!…"_

Clu's gaze was trained on the skies up ahead, and he stood motionless. Kevin didn't see a thing at first, but then when lightning flashed again the familiar silhouette of a Recognizer appeared off in the distance above the skyline. The rumbling sound soon followed, growing stronger as the hovering craft got closer, clearing the tops of several buildings down the street.

Kevin looked at Clu, exhaling. Then with a knowing look he whispered, _"Good call…"  
_

Clu nodded. Tron looked at both of them, seeming definitely unsure of what was going on but nonetheless steeled for a fight. But Kevin looked over at him, bringing a finger to his lips, and Tron nodded. The three of them stood, backs against the wall and absolutely still, watching as the Recognizer touched down just out of view on the other side of the street. Kevin was praying the magnet theory would work to keep them cloaked, otherwise this trek was going to get a whole lot more interesting.

For a few seconds nothing happened, and they could only hear the choppy roar of the huge machinery as it echoed along the street. But then suddenly a program darted around the corner, running past them at full speed, its blue disk and markings almost a motion blur.  
A second later, two sentries with staffs darted past on foot, in quick pursuit.

Kevin's jaw dropped when he saw that the sentries weren't dressed in armored uniforms at all, but in basic civilian program attire instead. And their lightsuits were adorned not with red or orange markings, but with blue…the same color as the program they were chasing. Kevin looked at Clu, who returned his alarmed expression, and then he watched with increasing dread as the "sentries" disappeared down the street, his insides suddenly feeling like ice and lead at the same time.  
_The game has changed. They're hunting down their own. _

Several moments passed, and the three of them stood waiting for something to happen, yet there was nothing but silence and the droning noise of the Recognizer. No new sentries came in pursuit, and the two sentries which had run past them had not returned. Kevin looked at Clu, and both of them shrugged. This was definitely odd.

A few moments later, there was the sound of footsteps, and they looked to the left just in time to watch the same lone program the sentries had been chasing as it came racing up the adjacent alley on foot. If it saw them, it sure didn't slow down or stop, and instead it ran across the empty lot, scaled a short wall enclosure, and kept right on running, eventually disappearing from sight.

The Recognizer still roared its empty vigil across the street from them. Long moments passed, and there were no sentries in sight anywhere. Kevin looked at Clu, Clu looked at Kevin, Tron looked at both of them. Finally Clu stepped carefully forward, leaning over and peering off down the street in the direction of where the sentries had gone. Then he stood upright, shook his head, and shrugged. He looked across the street towards where the roar of the Recognizer was emanating, then glanced back at Kevin, finally gesturing with a nod in that direction and an unspoken question on his face.

Kevin knew exactly what Clu was thinking.  
He was thinking the same thing too. He nodded in acknowledgement, then tapped Tron on the arm and tilted his head as he stepped forward towards Clu. The three of them ran quickly across the street, then plastered themselves tightly up against the wall of the building on the corner, inching along so as not to be easily spotted.

A few more steps and the Recognizer was just around the corner a few meters from them, it's ominous and brilliantly illuminated structure taking up nearly half the small lot beside the building. Clu leaned out from the wall just enough to peer around the corner, and then squinted, his vision scouring the lot for any sight of sentries, before stepping out into the lot. Kevin watched him for a few steps, then stepped out behind him, Tron following close behind as the three of them carefully sneaked right over to the Recognizer. A few more steps and they tentatively stopped, waiting, fearing the small chance they'd face some kind of interception. Then Kevin stood right underneath the boarding aperture. And of course nothing happened. This meant there definitely wasn't anyone running the thing, or else he'd have been taken aboard by now.

Kevin craned his neck to look up at the huge archway of the abandoned behemoth. Suddenly he couldn't help but recall a memory from many cycles gone by, the time when he and Ram had taken refuge in one of these.  
_Yeah, this is pretty familiar alright._

It didn't seem too familiar to Tron though, who simply stared up at the thing for a long time, then looked around the lot, and finally spoke, _"We should get out of here, before more of these show up."_

Kevin looked all around at the lot and surrounding streets while speaking in a voice just slightly above a whisper, _"Yeah,…that's what I was thinking. Looks like we may have just lucked into a ride."_

Clu's eyes widened, his jaw dropping as he stared at Kevin, _"Are you insane?"_

Kevin gave him a grin and chuckled, _"…'depends on who you ask…" _

He glanced around the lot once more and then continued, looking up at the Recognizer, _"…two choices- … we take off on foot again, and probably run into a few more of these on the way,…OR,…"_

Kevin paused, his grin growing wider as he arched his brows into the same daredevil/hero look Tron had seen him get a hundred times before. He looked back at Tron and Clu, gesturing towards the Recognizer with a thumb, _"…or,... we take this thing,…and as the old Zen saying goes,…'the fly that doesn't want to be swatted is most secure when it lights on the fly-swatter'….you know?…"_

The reference went right over Tron and Clu's heads so to speak, and they both just looked at him warily.  
Kevin sighed, shook his head and chuckled again, swinging his arms up to present the Recognizer as though he were introducing a showcase prize on 'The Price is Right'.

_"…okay -…ta-daa!…we fly there in this thing,…and nobody's gonna ' know we're not the bad guys…...get it?…"_

Tron gave Kevin a shrewd look, nodding. Clu raised an eyebrow, then slowly grinned. Kevin gestured for the two of them to come stand beside him just under the aperture, and once they had joined him there, he raised his hand up. In response to his User powers, the uptake beam initiated, flooding them instantly with light, and a second later, they were on board.


	11. Chapter 11

Tron stared down past his feet, looking through the transparent flooring of the Recognizer at the cloud-covered landscapes far below. From this vantage point the Grid seemed so much smaller, scarcely more than just a geometric array of peaceful twinkling lines winking through openings in the passing clouds. But he knew all too well that it was quite a different system when one was on the ground amidst it,...much larger, larger than life actually,... and he knew all too well that those twinkling geometric lines were actually a constant thrum of drama, activity and vicious racing ribbons of light, all teeming beneath a clouded ceiling of data streams and lightning. The Grid was anything but serene.

Feeling a sudden slight rush of vertigo as the Recognizer banked slightly, he leaned his head back again, held on to the hand grips a bit more securely, and exhaled an uneasy sigh.

Kevin looked back at Tron from the control console, noting his uneasiness. He raised an eyebrow. _"...You ok, buddy?..."_

Tron nodded crisply, _"Oh, yes. Fine,..."_ and then he paused, glancing downward at the clouds. When he looked up, on his face was just the hint of a forced, polite grin.

_"...I'm just now realizing...apparently,...that I really don't care for heights that much."_

Kevin nodded, giving Tron a thoughtful look. It was odd to see such changes as these manifesting in a program who had always been such the stoic type, even before his having been re-purposed into the intrepid Rinzler. Now there was a new vulnerability, a bit less of the superhuman and more of the human, a bit more like Alan, with just the hint of sadness and uncertainty showing from behind those stoic eyes. And Kevin knew that of the three of them, the cycles had been the most unkind to Tron.

Suddenly the huge craft began to lurch suddenly to the left. Kevin returned his gaze forward, eyes widening, then quickly passed a hand across the panel to steady up their flight.

_"Woops!...bet that didn't help things, huh?..." _He gave a slightly awkward grin as the Recognizer stabilized, _"...sorry." _

Clu had been casually leaning against the hull, but then had to grab the hand grips, stumbling and almost falling when the Recognizer had tilted so suddenly. He shot Kevin a slightly impatient look.

_"Kevin, could you please avoid doing that again?..."_

Kevin glanced at Clu, opened his mouth to speak, but then paused, simply nodding his head in mild indignation. Then he looked back at the view-screen and smirked.

"_Wh-...yeah,...well-...you know,...I don't just buzz around in these things every day, ...man,... " _

They were just now passing over the Games Arena. Kevin glanced across to the right of the Grid and steered the Recognizer there, lowering altitude as wisps of clouds feathered up past them. A bit farther and they were at the edge of the Grid. He looked down, then frowned, searching for the familiar brilliantly lit EOLC tower against the skyline. Being the tallest structure in the system it should have been easy to spot. But it wasn't there, at least. Not the way it used to be. Now in its place was a darkened demolished mess atop a tall spire which was only half-lit.

Kevin hovered the Recognizer even lower, down nearer the top of the tower to get a better look at End of Line. It appeared that the club had suffered some sort of explosion, and was nearly demolished. Through its transparent roof he could see that it looked like it was being looted, as he looked down to see about two dozen different programs running rampant like mice all around in the darkened wreckage, scavenging and pilfering for whatever furniture, scraps and souvenirs remained in the once majestic and thriving night-spot.

This was a bit of a shock for him to behold...when he'd last been at End of Line, there was just basically a sophisticated bar fight which had broken out. Now the whole place was demolished.

_"Man...what happened to End of Line?..." _Kevin looked at Clu, shocked.

But Clu only lowered his eyes, tapped his hand on one of the hand grips, then glanced back at Kevin sheepishly. Kevin had a feeling he knew what had happened to the club just by seeing the look on Clu's face. He steered the Recognizer slowly around the wreckage, then gave Clu a pained and annoyed look.

"_Clu,...what the- ...wh-...why?...why did you do that?...and so where's Castor?..."_

Frustrated, Kevin waited for an answer as he split his attention between staring at Clu and steering the Recognizer towards a spot to land. Clu didn't answer, and just kept looking down and off to the side. Kevin rolled his eyes, then just shook his head as he began to send the craft into the hover landing sequence.

"_Never mind. Right now we gotta land this thing and find Quorra's Light Runner, if it's still here...assuming these rioters haven't taken it apart, and-..."_

Kevin stopped speaking abruptly, suddenly noticing that programs were now exiting the elevators of the tower ground floor and scurrying away, fleeing the scene as fast as they could in a panic - all sorts of programs, with all different markings on their light suits, running in every direction. Clu looked down, shocked to recognize two of his former guards as they went jumping over a railing, their red-trimmed light suits disappearing from view as they ran. If his guards were actually fearful, then that meant something truly malevolent must have been in charge. Something that now flew the Recognizers.

Clu looked at Kevin. _"You were right...about the-...'fly swatter'...they see this Recognizer, and think we're the enemy."_

Kevin stared in amazement, bringing the craft down to hover near the ground.

"_Yeah,...I'm kinda noticing that too."_

Clu watched the programs scattering every which way, and simply shook his head, muttering under his breath with a bit of a scowl, _"Look at all of this – pandemonium. Where is the order I once created?...there is no order here, no perfection." _

Kevin landed the Recognizer with a somewhat unsteady thump. Then he looked at Clu, raising an eyebrow, trying to be patient.

_"Clu,...that's a broken record, man. We've been through that already, you know? Let's just get off this thing and get away from here, okay?... This place is insane..." _

They debarked from the Recognizer one at a time. Kevin went first, and the moment he stepped foot on the ground, a few of the programs who were still scurrying away caught sight him, and a couple of them pointed, the faces registering shock, confusion. Then all of them took off running, some of them even screaming. Just then Clu dropped down from the Recognizer. Kevin gave a disgusted sigh and shook his head.

"_Oh man,...great!..." _he looked over at Clu with a smirk, _"They think I'm you. They look scared to death and angry as hell at me, all at the same time."_

Tron dropped down from the Recognizer finally, and the three of them started forward, walking through the various bits of rubble which were scattered about on the onyx patio of the tower plaza, and looking at the miscellaneous discarded artifacts and litter as they walked along.

Tron found the remains of a broken light baton and picked it up, but of course it no longer worked. So he dropped it again. Over beside the light fountain Kevin spotted a rather disheveled MP3 helmet laying on the ground. He walked over to it, sweeping it up into his hand like a bowling ball, then looked it over, and finally stuck it on his head. It fit rather loosely on him, and was kind of large, made him feel like a bit like Marvin the Martian. Nevertheless Clu looked at him, frowning slightly, seeming a bit resentful that he didn't have one too.

Kevin shrugged, splaying both arms out to his sides.

_"Hey-...don't get all sour puss on me, man ...I found it first." _

Clu crossed his arms, sulking. Kevin didn't have the patience for it. He pointed at Clu, then gestured at the rubble and remnants of mayhem which were scattered all along the tower plaza.  
_  
"Hey, man? – you see this? ...this is your mess, Clu, not mine,...I shouldn't have to take the rap with you...but at least I can avoid the hate-stares this way..."_

Kevin's voice from within the helmet was resonant, and had sounded a bit more terse than he'd intended. Clu just looked at him, then looked down solemnly. Kevin took the helmet off and shrugged.

_"Sorry, man,...wasn't really trying to be mean...I'm just really tired...guess I can get surly without even realizing it."_

Then he turned the helmet around in his hands, and held it out to Clu.

_"You know what? You want it?...here, Clu, you can have it..."_

Clu shook his head. Kevin dropped his jaw and raised both eyebrows.

"_You just-...you just wanted it two nanocycles ago..." _

Then Clu gave an impish smirk, narrowing his eyes and looking at his creator with a slight raise of his chin.

_"Yeah,...well,...I changed my mind."_

Kevin just stared at him curiously for a moment, mouth open, confounded. But he was too tired to get into an argument over this with a program who was simply having a moment of adolescent defiance. He stared at Clu a moment longer, then nodded, holding the helmet out to Tron.

"_Okay,...how about you, Tron?... wanna' helmet?..."_

Tron gave a polite but wry smile, shaking his head. _"Not really. But, thank you for offering."_

Kevin shrugged. _"...hm,...well,...suit yourself. I'm just gonna' put it back down over here. Maybe whoever left it'll come back and get it."_

They'd walked most of the way around the plaza sub-level, and hadn't seen any sign of Quorra's Light Runner. He could have sworn that she'd parked it here on this level when they'd come downtown, before all the chaos at End of Line had started,. Then they'd hopped a solar sailer, so theoretically the Light Runner should've still been here. But there were no vehicles left here, it seemed.

And then they rounded a corner and saw it...down at the very end of the last parking tunnel. It appeared to have been vandalized pretty badly, and he could see that someone had de-rezzed the T-top windows on it, but the wheels were still there. The interior was thankfully so well armed with anti-theft codings that he guessed there'd be nothing much that looters could've taken.

As they walked closer to the vehicle, Kevin sighed, surveying the damage more closely and seeing only a few pixels of glass remaining around the edges of the windows. But then he shrugged, and looked at Tron and Clu.

"_Well,... if there's a silver lining to this...at least it's more roomy now. I was really wondering how we __were gonna fit all three of us in this little two-seater cubby with the top hatch closed." _

Kevin walked around to the driver's side, and opened the door, inspecting the interior of the vehicle. Everything seemed to be intact. He pressed a code on the panel and the lights instantly lit up, then the engines roared to life. Reaching over, he opened the passenger door, and then got out of the car, looking at Tron and Clu, then chuckled.

"_I'm surprised nobody's called shotgun yet."_

Neither Tron nor Clu got the joke. But Clu stepped forward and asked, _"Can I drive?"_

Kevin looked at him, surprised, then took a deep breath and sighed. This was irony.

"_Well,...y-...yeah,...I don't see why not,...but,...you-...you don't have any idea how to get to my place-"_

And then he stopped mid sentence when he saw Clu's confident grin. His eyes narrowed.

"_...you know how to get there, don't y-...you've BEEN there?" _

And then he gave Clu an incredulous look which bordered on indignation, throwing his hands in the air.

"_Man!...when!...why?, and-...Clu!...man, if you messed up my place so help me-"_

But Clu interrupted him, in a calm and matter-of-fact voice.

"_Kevin,...relax. I was simply looking for you...and,...yes that was the wrong thing to do. But no, I didn't mess up anything..."_

Clu paused, clearing his throat, _"...except...I ...might have...de-rezzed a tabletop...slightly...but, we can fix that."_

Kevin's eyes widened. _"De-...de-rezzed a tabletop?..."_

He stared at Clu. Then he ran his hands through his hair, and stood with eyes closed pinching the bridge of his nose for quite a few nanocycles, calming himself. However, when he spoke again, his voice was not that much calmer.

"_Clu...ya know,...I spend like- what? ….one day hanging around you?... and look at me! – twenty freakin' years of Zen down the drain, man!"_

Clu was amused, but he knew this was definitely not the time to show it. Because Kevin was very tired, and quite angry, and, rightfully so, he supposed. So he said nothing. Instead he started back around the vehicle, assuming this meant he would not be driving them there. But Kevin stuck his hand out, stopping him.

_"No!,...whoa, noooo, no no no,...you're driving, pal. Since you know where we're goin'...then I'm just gonna sit here and relax...I deserve it." _

Clu nodded, walking back to the driver's side. Kevin looked over at Tron, who seemed to have become quite accustomed to observing his and Clu's occasional spats with quiet and polite detachment.

_"...so this means we gotta squeeze in and share shotgun, Tron...you okay with that?..."_

Ever the compliant program, Tron simply nodded. The two of them somehow managed to both fit into the tiny front seat by extending it back to a reclined position, Kevin folding his legs up to sit behind Tron, and Tron perching himself forward on the seat. Kevin laughed – this reminded him of being back in college and trying to see how many freshmen they could cram into a Volkswagen beetle.

As Clu drove the vehicle slowly out of the parking tunnels and made his way onto the now desolate street, Kevin looked at him and gave him the quintessential parental driving-lesson speech, with an arched brow.

_"Don't do anything crazy. We're already past the Grid and not far from the edge of the Outlands...with any luck,...we'll make it there with no hassle. Let's just tool along kinda slow and easy."_

A few moments later they were blasting down the deserted craggy roads of the Outlands, at anything but a slow rate of speed. The Light Runner handled the rough terrain at high velocity quite easily, sending out a flowing wide ribbon of light behind it.

Once they'd made it past the perimeter of the Grid system and out into 'no man's land', Kevin had been very relieved, and somehow found himself abandoning his previous idea of relaxing in favor of raising up on his knees and sticking his head up through the windowless top of the vehicle so the wind could race through his hair.

_"Wheeeeeee-hooooo!"_ he shouted into the wind, laughing.

Then of course Tron had to try it too. Clu simply chuckled at the two of them.

Then Kevin quickly composed himself, and pointed off to a peculiarly-shaped group of what looked like simply time-chiseled mountains.

"_Uh,...yeah,...you know it's up here...right?"_

Clu nodded. Slowing just enough, he did an impressive fishtail which sent quivering bands of light shirring around the back and sides of the Light Runner, and then made the turn onto the fork in the road. As they approached the side of the mountain, a well-camouflaged hatch slowly opened to allow them access. Just as they zoomed into the tunnel, the hatch slid closed behind them, appearing once more as though it were simply part of the mountains.

And then Kevin finally breathed a sigh of relief. Something about the whole trip here had all seemed just a bit too easy, but he sure wasn't complaining.

They all piled out of the Light Runner, and stepped onto the elevator platform which would take them to Kevin's bunker. Tron looked around, and then back at Kevin. His face was a bit sad, to see what kind of high-security and seclusion his friend now required just to live with a modicum of safety.

"_So this is where your home is now?"..._Tron asked.

Kevin nodded. _"Home sweet home. Well,...it's upstairs."_

The elevator ascended to the elaborate bunker retreat. There was no one around to notice the very tiny disk of light which had begun to blink just under the dashboard of the Light Runner.


	12. Chapter 12

Kevin leaned over, picked up one of the chrome apple sculptures from the floor, then sighed. He looked at the apple, turning it around in his hands. It wasn't scratched or dented. Most likely the ones on the floor were fine too. He'd gotten tired of seeing that centerpiece on the table anyway.

And so what if the tabletop was de-rezzed in one spot.  
He'd had a fit about it when Clu first told him, but it really wasn't the end of the world.  
At least it was still in one piece. Until he had a chance to fix it, they'd just avoid that corner of it or else eat in the kitchen.

He stood glancing around the spacious main room. Not counting the glass tabletop which Clu had for some reason clobbered, everything else looked pretty much the same.

_Well,...except the vintage light cycle isn't here.  
Because Sam traded it. For a cloak.  
Really wish he hadn't done that. Sure could use it right about now.  
Then again,...kinda had thought we were gonna get out of this place, so it didn't much matter then..._

He chuckled at himself, at the way he sloughed these things off like they were no big deal, and at the way he was able to be so uncannily calm about still being stuck in one hell of a virtual-reality nightmare.  
Either he'd developed a distinct gift for not sweating the small stuff, or else he'd grown into a king-biscuit capacity for denial...he wasn't sure which. 

Clu walked sheepishly around the table, looking at the cracked spots on the glass where pixels were missing, then staring down at the large bowl of chrome apples which was now sitting on the floor. Then he looked at Kevin but didn't say anything. Kevin just waved his hand and gestured at the tray of food on the table.

"_...eh,...whatever, man,...we'll fix it. Just don't have any more meltdowns and we'll be fine...hey,...got somethin' for ya..."_

Clu looked up, to see Kevin handing him a small bowl. He looked at it, and then smiled like a kid on Christmas morning.

_"Raisins!...Thank you!"_

Kevin nodded, grinning. "_Yeah,...no sweat. There's some roasted chicken, some salad greens, raw veggies,...oh, and, ...bean sprouts-...gotta' have bean sprouts." _

Clu munched on the raisins, looking at all the food on the tray with curiosity.

"_I don't know what a bean sprout is, but I'll try it."_ He sat down, and took a sampling of them from the tray. _"Hm...crunchy. Goes good with raisins."_

Kevin chuckled, setting down the piece of roasted chicken he'd been eating, then grabbing for the napkin. He looked at Clu with a wry half-grin.

"_Man, your palate is as weird as mine...one of these days I'll have to hip you to peanut butter and bean sprout sandwiches..."_

Just then, Tron walked in. Clu looked up, and greeted him enthusiastically, pointing at the tray of foods.

"_Tron...you should join us. You have to try these...bean sprouts...with raisins."_

Kevin chuckled again, shaking his head. Tron gave them both a strange look and smiled.

"_I don't usually nourish myself with solids. Only lightwater." _

Kevin grinned, recalling the memory fondly, _"I remember that. Amazing stuff. When I first got to the Grid I didn't know the water does the same thing as food here...food is just energy in a different form."_

He reached for the salad, helping another spoonful of it onto his plate._ "However,...man cannot live on lightwater alone. Gotta have my veggies. And I'm not a bad cook, man...you should try some."_

Tron nodded, _"Alright, I will." _He sat down, reaching for a whole green bean, and crunched into it, chewing tentatively. His face lit up. He nodded and reached for another.

Kevin smiled, and gestured at the tray of food. _"Hey, help yourself. If we run out, we'll __digitize more."_

After dinner, Kevin showed them each to their guest rooms and offered them sleep clothes from the linen closet, all of which resembled simple karate gi's with glowing bands along the edges.

Then he bid them each goodnight...he was going to have to get some rest or else he was going to fall over from exhaustion. He walked to the lavatory and splashed his face and hands with water, stopping to stare for a moment at the young face which stared back at him from the mirror...it had taken him many cycles to get used to seeing a head of gray hair and a full beard iced with silvery gray every time he looked into that mirror...now it was going to take some getting-used-to all over again, seeing himself young once more as he'd always felt on the inside. He brushed his teeth, then stood running his fingers across the generous growth of stubble on his face, and yawned.  
_Nope, way too tired to shave.  
Tomorrow.  
First, sleep._

Kevin shuffled slowly back to the main room, but then stopped in the small hallway when he noticed that Clu was right back in the study again, admiring the books. He leaned in through the open doorway. _"You're not tired?"_

Clu nodded, but kept looking at the rows of elegant digitized books. _"I am, but, this room is fascinating. I had to see it again. I've never read a real book before. Only data streams."_

_Kevin nodded, "Yeah,...well,...take your pick. Plenty to choose from." _

Clu was tracing a finger along the edges of the books, surveying the titles. There were many there by someone called Jules Verne, and several other names he'd never heard. He stopped at a leather-bound book which intrigued him. It was by someone called Alexandre Dumas.

Kevin smiled and nodded._ "The Three Musketeers..."_ he chuckled, then raised his hand as though he were saluting with a sword, _"...all for one,...and one for all."_

Clu gave a puzzled look, then a half-grin, and then he pulled the book from the shelf. _"I think I want to read this one."_

Kevin chuckled again._ "Good choice, man,...good choice."_

Then he turned back towards the hallway. _ "Well,...make yourself at home, Clu. I'm gonna' go grab some rest."_

Kevin walked slowly back through the main room, his tired bare feet padding across the pristine floors and over to the alcove where his bed was. He sat down on the bed, then he just fell over backward and stretched out his arms. He didn't even get under the covers.  
_I've never been so damned tired in all my life.  
Virtual-existence life or real life.  
Whatever. I'm tired.  
And screw pajamas. I'm sleeping in this_.

He did manage to raise up and take off his jacket, tossing it over to the floor, not caring that his disk was still attached to it. He didn't need to wear a disk in his own home anyway. Then he wriggled out of his t-shirt, and tossed that too, flopping back down on the bed. From there it took him maybe ten nanocycles to fall into a deep sleep.

The dream was definitely an odd one.

So vivid, a replay of a memory, something from over twenty years ago...

_He was back at Encom, just after he'd figured out he'd been hacked. He was storming into Dillinger's office and slamming a printed press-release down onto the desk.  
His name was credited as writer at the top of the page. He was lividly angry._

"_...what the hell is THIS? ..."_

Ed Dillinger just stared at him innocently as though he had no idea what he was talking about.

"_Oh COME ON, Ed!...this-...this isn't what I submitted! You know it isn't!... It's- it's like a tossed word salad - bits from my saved report file, but most of it's stuff I've never freaking seen before!...and how could you approve this without-...without even asking me about it?..."_

_Ed continued to stare, then the stare became a condescending pseudo-compassionate look, the kind of look one gives a mental patient.  
Alan came walking in.  
Kevin turned to Alan, his face still livid.  
Alan reached out a hand, trying to calm him down, "Kevin, it's just somebody's screw up or maybe a joke...we'll-"_

_But Kevin interrupted him, picked up the press-release and held it up, pointing at it._

"_A joke?...Alan,... have you SEEN this?...it's-...it's...a total TRAVESTY!...and-...and first of all,... these names? – half these names aren't even listed right! – some of these people are just my friends, not developers,...they have nothing to do with this company or the stockholders...it's...it's like somebody went through my phone book plucking names left and right,...hell, went through my diary for that matter...and then added sixteen paragraphs of the weirdest stuff I've ever seen – stuff I wouldn't write if I was sniffing airplane glue!...and,...and... then submitted it? - as a freaking press release?..."_

_Kevin looked back at Dillinger.  
"...I wanna know who the hell did this!...and why the hell you approved it, Ed!..."_

But Dillinger still just stared innocently, patronizingly, condescendingly.  
Kevin glared back at Dillinger, waiting for an explanation.  
Alan stepped closer to Kevin, trying to calm him down.

"Kevin, I know you're upset, but,...this isn't worth getting all bent out of shape over. We'll figure it out, just cool down, and...hey, let's go maybe grab some lunch."

_Kevin ran his hand through his hair, then exhaled, exasperated. He stared at Alan incredulously._

"_Lunch?...Alan?... I 'got zero appetite right now, man,... because of ...this...this -...this whatever it is!...Somebody's idea of a joke, huh?... Yeah. Some joke. "_

_He gave another exasperated sigh, turned back to look at Dillinger again._

"Well it's just mighty damn funny, Ed,...except- ...except,... man,... do you realize whoever did this probably just made me the laughing stock of the company...and the press too …for that matter?...it's not a joke!...it's-..."

_Kevin paused. Dillinger still didn't say a word, and instead gave a pained sigh, as though Kevin were now simply wasting his time._

_Kevin crumpled up the press release, leaned over and slammed it angrily into the wastebasket._

"_...it's CRAP!"  
And with that he stormed out of Dillinger's office._

But as he walked down the hall he felt someone grabbing his shoulder, shaking it, trying to get his attention but he couldn't seem to turn around...he knew it was Alan's voice...

"Kevin!...Kevin,..."

Kevin woke with a start. Tron was standing beside his bed, shaking his shoulder.

"_Kevin!...Kevin,... are you alright?"_

He blinked, disoriented, and saw Alan,...no, it was Tron standing there. He spoke slowly, half awake, his voice deep and raspy from sleep.

"_Yeahh,...umph,...wha?..."_

"_You were yelling odd things...I heard you from in the other room. I came in but couldn't seem to get you to stir. I couldn't really understand most of what you said,...except I believe you yelled, 'Crap!'..."_

Kevin sighed, rolled over onto his stomach, yawned, then nodded.

"_Hmph,...yeah,... 'sounds 'bout right...I say that a lot..."_

Kevin started to drift back to sleep, but Tron's voice woke him again.

"_So...you're alright then?"_

Kevin nodded, then with his eyes closed he reached out, fumbling with air until he found Tron's shoulder, then patted it and let his hand drop back to the bed.

"_Yeah, Tron...fine...just...dreaming...gotta go back t'sleep... "_

Tron nodded, then turned around to walk away.

Then suddenly he recalled something...a memory from out of nowhere...he recalled Kevin Flynn had said to him once, though he couldn't recall just when or why he had said it...something about missing his young son, and about how in the User world he would always come in to check on him while he slept, cover him with a blanket and calm him when he had bad dreams, making sure he was alright...Kevin had explained, "..._because that's what we do when we care about someone."_

Tron turned and looked back at Kevin, now sound asleep again. He looked around. No blankets in sight, aside from the one which was already on the bed, but it was underneath his friend's sleeping form. So he simply took the side of the blanket which wasn't underneath him, and folded it over on top of him to cover his shoulders. Then he quietly walked away toward his guest room.

Just then, Clu appeared from the study, with a book under his arm. He stopped when he saw Tron, and quirked his brow in slight concern, _"What's going on?"_

Tron gestured back towards where Kevin's sleeping-alcove was.

"_Nothing. I heard him, yelling, in his sleep. I came in to make sure he was alright. He said he was just dreaming."_

Tron hesitated, then looked back at Clu and continued, a sort of wistful expression on his face, _"Kevin once told me that is what we do when we care about someone...we check to make sure they're alright..." _

Tron smiled softly, his voice trailing off, then he turned and walked back towards his guest room, calling back in a soft tone of voice so as not to wake Kevin, _"Goodnight, Clu..."_

Clu watched him walk away, then called softly after him, _"Goodnight,...Tron..."_

After a moment, he turned and walked towards his own guest room, but then stopped.  
He turned back around, noticing again the large recliner in the corner of the main room. There was a small directional lamp arching over it, providing a soft glow in the otherwise darkened room. He walked over to the recliner and sat down, holding the book in his lap.

Glancing around the room, he could hear only silence, and an occasional soft snore coming from Kevin's sleeping-alcove. He could hear no sounds from Tron's room, but at least he would be there if Tron needed him. Or if Kevin did. He couldn't change the past, but he could at least make sure they were all alright now. Perhaps that was what Kevin Flynn meant when he'd said, '_All for one, and one for all.'_

He opened the book, and began to read.


	13. Chapter 13

Kevin half-opened his eyes. All he saw was a sea of fuzzy greyish white. He blinked, then tried to sit up but something was restricting his movement.

_"Whrt-dhr-hrll...?"_

He heard his voice trying to speak but it sounded weird and muffled. Something was covering his face and whatever it was tasted like cotton balls. Then he awakened more fully, realizing he was wrapped in his bedspread, and it was covering his head.

He fought with the top of the bedspread, fidgeting to get one arm free, then pulled the bedspread off his face. Looking down, he saw that in sleep he had completely wrapped himself up in the thing, and somehow rolled over so that it was wrapped around him twice, rather tightly.  
_Nice. I look like a human burrito._

He wrenched his other arm free, then freed his legs from the bedspread and sat up in bed, yawning. He had no notion of how long he'd been asleep, but it felt like it could have been a whole cycle or two. He must have been exhausted to have slept that deeply.

He started to stretch his limbs, and did a double take when he noticed his youthful bare arms and chest, a sight which definitely shocked him into waking up the rest of the way. But then remembered the whole turn of events, and that that Tron and Clu were here as well. He thought he vaguely recalled Tron walking over and trying to speak with him about something after he'd fallen asleep, but he wasn't sure if he might not have simply dreamed that.

Kevin got up out of bed, stretching his legs, which he discovered were itchy - motocross pants in this world were no more comfortable to the skin than in the User world, yet somehow he'd slept deeply and for an indeterminately long amount of time in a pair of them. He wandered sleepily around the edge of the bed scratching at his calves, tripping over his boots on the floor, swearing under his breath, then emerged from the alcove into the main room.

He stopped when he caught sight of Clu who was reclining in the reading chair across the room, soundly powered-down into sleep mode with the book still across his lap. He chuckled to himself, then padded softly around the corner, through the doorway and down the hall to the lavatory. He knew hot showers in this world were simply a virtual experience, but he was still looking forward to one. Especially after having slept like the dead.

01010101010101010101010101

Tron powered up from sleep mode, his eyes flashing suddenly open. He panned his vision around at what seemed an unfamiliar room, and there was mild disorientation as random bits of data scrambled to re-boot themselves, but within a few nanos he booted to full awareness, finally remembering where he was...in a guest room, at Kevin Flynn's home.

He sat up, looking around the room. The magnet which Kevin had removed from his disk after they'd arrived still sat on the table beside him, next to the folded "sleep clothes" as Kevin had called them. _He hadn't quite known why a program would want to wear specialized clothing just for sleep mode, and he had assumed it was mostly a User custom, which would mean Kevin was just being what Users called "hospitable" by offering such sleep clothing to his guests. Nevertheless, Tron had simply remained clad in his lightsuit, s_ettled onto the comfortable bed, leaned against the wall, and powered himself down.

He stood up and walked to the door, then emerged into the main room. Looking across, he saw Clu reclining back in a large chair, with the book across his lap, resting in sleep mode. So as not to wake him, Tron walked very quietly over towards the middle of the room, glancing towards Kevin's sleep-alcove. But Kevin wasn't in his bed. He wondered for a brief nano if Kevin would have left both him and Clu there and gone somewhere, but logic didn't support it – he had been very adamant about the three of them sticking together from this point on, due to the dangerous and uncertain state of things in the system. So Tron reasoned that Kevin was for the moment simply elsewhere in this very spacious home.

Right about then was when Tron caught sight of the balcony, beyond which was a stunning panoramic view overlooking the Outlands. He'd wanted to go out there when they'd first arrived but the chance hadn't presented itself. However, now seemed like an opportune time. He could occupy himself with the view until Clu powered up again and until Kevin returned from wherever he was.

Stepping out to the balcony, he was immediately taken aback by the view. Looking up at the sky for as far as his gaze could travel, he saw nothing but infinite clouds which met at the horizon-line with the equally infinite dark and mysterious expanse of undeveloped Outlands. In the center of it all, at the horizon, was the far-off glowing metropolis known as Tron City, barely visible through the misty cloud cover.

Just then, Tron was suddenly gripped by a wave of what Users would call "sadness" - for as beautiful as this view and this spacious home were, they were also apparently all that his friend had seen, for cycles upon cycles numbering into the hundreds of thousands now. Kevin had lived here, sequestered away from the rest of the system in this "safe house" as he referred to it, for so very long, and as aesthetically lovely as it was, it was still an imprisonment of sorts. Tron didn't understand why, or what had happened to his friend to cause this to be necessary. He stared out at the expanse of nothingness, and very softly whispered to himself.

"_Kevin Flynn,...what have you become?..."_

He tried to remember something, anything which would support or explain it.  
But there was only a strange awareness of a void, null sectors, missing data – data which Flynn would call 'memories'. If they were there and not missing, then something was keeping him from accessing them, but he feared that they were simply gone, restructured, perhaps overwritten.

All he could remember was waking at the arcade, then traveling here with Flynn and Clu, having dinner, checking on a sleeping Kevin and then going into sleep mode. And other than that, all he remembered were fragments, many disjointed clusters of information some of which were out of sequence in the cycles - such as when he'd first met Kevin, and hearing Kevin's anecdote about checking on his young son. But beyond that, Tron remembered nothing of what should have been his recent past.

Kevin and Clu had told him he'd been in some sort of accident, and he wondered whether that had caused something to become unstable in his registry coding somehow - something which might somehow rectify itself eventually and unlock memories. But, given what chaos they'd all just experienced while traveling through the city, he wasn't sure he wanted it to rectify itself, if what he was going to see was worse than that. Right now he was very content to be in the present moment...

...until he looked down to the patio floor, and noticed two objects sitting atop the large cushion there...two objects which immediately caused a chain reaction of uneasiness to rattle through him. There on the cushion were two chromed spheres, and Tron couldn't take his eyes from them. Somehow the spheres meant something, and he didn't know what but he knew it wasn't good.

He walked over to the small spheres, bent down and slowly picked each of them them up, staring at them, trying to place their significance despite the unsettling affect they had on him. He stared and stared at them, and then he heard an echo rolling through his head so clearly he almost jumped at the sound...

…._Rinz-ler!...Rinz-ler!...Rinz-ler!..._

Then, suddenly, he remembered so much more...  
_  
_He remembered voices chanting, all of them mingling into a cacophony, an audial blur...  
He remembered a huge arena, thousands of programs all around - they were the ones chanting...  
He remembered holding two disks lit with brilliant fiery orange - they matched his suit...  
He remembered the Games...and he remembered always returning from the Games, returning to the man who wore a hooded robe trimmed with yellow light...the man who held two of these same spheres in the palm of his hand, instilling extreme fear and loathing in him with just the sight of them...the man who also held his own life in that hand, proverbially, twisting it around like he twisted the spheres around while he watched the Games...the man who had enslaved him, owned him, twisted him from Tron into a monster, Rinzler...the man who had twisted everything around...the man who looked like Kevin Flynn, sounded like Kevin Flynn but wasn't Kevin Flynn at all...

Tron dropped the spheres onto the cushion and spun around.

Within mere nanocycles he was across the balcony and inside the main room, launching himself at the sleeping Clu...grabbing him and pulling him from the chair...throwing him up against the wall with a strength he hadn't known he possessed...holding him up by the throat and watching Clu rebooting to wakefulness in shock...and then hearing his own voice roar in anguished rage...

"_**...HOW DARE YOU !..."**_

01001010101010101010101010101

Kevin stood with the towel around his waist, shaving with a light-razor which hummed and glowed with blue. Trimming his beard stubble was definitely much easier in this world...just digitize it away. Within a mere moment he was done and was stepping into a pair of freshly digitized white pants, pulling on a soft long-sleeved white shirt, which is when he realized the pants were now a bit too roomy in the waist, and the shirt was a bit snug in the shoulders.  
_Hm...didn't think I'd really put on any weight over the years.  
Guess it just trades places._

He decided he'd simply have to adjust the programming and digitize something else, but for right now this would do. He wanted to go and see if Clu and Tron were awake yet.

Curling a strand of beads around his wrist, he emerged from the dressing room, walked through the lavatory and out into the hallway. He hadn't taken three steps towards the main room when he heard Tron's voice yelling.

Kevin ran into the room and then stopped, jolted by the horrific sight...Tron had Clu pinned up against the wall beside the mantel, holding him by his throat with one hand, while Clu's feet dangled a good six inches above the floor. Clu's face was wracked with panic, eyes bulging as he tried desperately with both hands to pry loose Tron's grip on his neck. In Tron's other hand was the disk from his back, raised and poised to strike.

"_Tron!...**NO**!"_

Tron flinched, but did not move or release Clu. Kevin lurched forward, running across the floor with bare feet, and slowing when he reached the enraged program.

Tron suddenly looked at Kevin, his eyes almost feral with anger. Kevin looked back at Tron, extending his hand. He spoke in an eerily calm voice, despite the terror he was feeling at witnessing this manifestation of one of his worst fears.

"_Tron...put him down. I understand what you're feeling, but,...man, put him down. For me...Put. Him. Down. …now. Please."_

Tron looked at Kevin, anguish, rage and confusion in his face. But then he reluctantly released his grip, and Clu fell in a heap to the floor, dazed and scrambling to back himself up to the wall.

Tron turned around with his back to Clu, and stood silent for a moment holding the disk, his other hand curled tightly into an angry fist. Speechless and reeling with shock, Clu began to raise himself to stand, and suddenly Tron whirled around, his disk aimed with fury at Clu's head.

But Kevin's reflexes were faster.  
Raising his hand he stopped Tron's arm with his User powers, and it was as if Tron's disk had hit an invisible steel wall.

Recoiling, Tron looked at Kevin with an expression somewhere between blind fury and bewilderment. Kevin's eyes didn't leave Tron's, and he spoke in a voice both hypnotically low and unquestionably final.

"_**Tron**,...I. SAID. **NO**."_

Kevin held out his hand. His eyes had a hint of sadness in them, but his voice was no less firm. _"Now,... give me the disk. Please."_

Though still seething with righteous anger, Tron complied. Kevin took the disk, then looked at Clu, who had managed to stand.

_"Clu,...give me your disk too, please."_

Clu looked at Kevin as though he were crazy. _"But-"_

Kevin interrupted him in the same even calm but firm voice, _"Clu,...I said,...give me your disk too. Please." _

Somewhat begrudgingly, Clu removed the disk from his back and complied. Kevin held on to the two disks, and spoke again, making eye contact with both Tron and Clu.

"_I had a feeling something like this was going to happen...now here's what's gonna happen next - you're both going to listen to me, and we're-...we're going to work through this. And,...once we have, then you can have your disks back. But... neither of you are going to hurt the other. Period. Understood?..."_

The two programs stood silently at odds, glaring at each other for a few moments.

It was Tron who finally spoke, looking at Kevin.

"_Are you aware,...of what he did to me?...Clu is a MONSTER!...he is not to be trusted – EVER!"_

Tron's jaw was set, his rage cooling into iron resolve. Kevin didn't answer at first. He simply nodded, considering Tron's statement. Then he looked at Tron, raising an eyebrow. He was going to have to get through to him with logic, and it wasn't going to be pleasant. But it was vital if they were ever going to get past this.

"_Tron?..."_ Kevin's voice was more gentle, however the words he was about to say were anything but. _"Are you aware,...of what you did to others?...To so many others?...my son – Sam Flynn - was almost one of those others."_

Tron's eyes widened. He was remembering. Uneasiness and horror were sneaking onto his features. Despite evidence of Tron's increasing remorse, Kevin continued, because he knew he had to. He was just hoping Clu would keep his own cool in the process.

"_...as Rinzler,...you were a monster. By all rights, I shouldn't trust you, ever..."_

Tron's eyes lowered to the floor. He was clearly reeling with self-revulsion. Kevin stepped closer to him, and finally brought the point home, his voice and mannerisms softening.

"_...and yet... I do trust you, man. I'm wary, sure,...but I trust you. Because you're not Rinzler - not anymore. You're not a monster anymore. And neither is Clu. You both were under the control of... something else."_

Tron raised his head, brows furrowing, slight confusion and skepticism on his face.

Kevin continued, _"Clu had a glitch, Tron,...very possibly a virus, which corrupted him and made him do what he did. And,... that was partly my fault too... as his programmer. When I made him I didn't know to safeguard against it,...I gave him free reign, and, I didn't give him enough direction. And,... there were variables in the system too, unknowns,...things I couldn't foresee..."_

Tron was still staring at Kevin, clearly trying to process all of this. Kevin was just glad he was doing so with a modicum of stability.

"_...there still are those unknowns,...Tron, but,...I 'm aware of those things now, aware that we need to safeguard against them – I think we all are, after what we've seen. But awareness is half the battle right there - history can't repeat itself, if you refuse to allow it to..."_

Tron stood silent for a moment. He was looking down at the floor, and so was Clu. Then suddenly Tron looked up at Kevin, his face now overtaken with remorse to an almost human degree.

"_I am so sorry, Kevin Flynn! I let you down. I let all the Users down. I did so much damage, and..."_

Tron's voice trailed off, so finally Kevin spoke.

"_It's okay, Tron...you didn't let me down...no more than I let you two down...and yeah you did some damage pal, but,...you-...you were no more in control of what you were doing than Clu was when he was going dictator on everyone...that's what I'm trying to get across to everybody here,...you know?...we need to realize that, get past this, forgive each other, and work on fixing the real problem, all of us together, man,...you know?...all for one, one for all?..."_

Kevin eyed Clu, who was still looking at the floor, stewing, _"...and speaking of that,...Clu,...don't you maybe have something you wanna say to Tron?..."_

Clu's head shot up. _"What!...he just attacked me!..."_

Kevin frowned, _"Yeah,...and,...we'll get to that in a minute,...but right now...don't you have something you wanna say to Tron?..."_

Clu was silent for a long time, brow furrowed, looking back down at the floor. Kevin watched him, realizing Clu had probably even more stubborn pride to wrestle with than he himself did, which was phenomenal considering Clu was a program and not a human - unless he was somehow turning into one. Stranger things had happened.

Clu looked up. His brow was still furrowed, but his eyes had softened. Kevin saw that there was real emotion in those eyes – Clu was struggling with this, he was hurting with this, and that was as it should be.

Clu turned to Tron, and spoke, his voice oddly quiet and faltering as he tried to find the right words. "_I am sorry...Tron,...for everything I did to you. I...don't blame you...for attacking me. If,...if you had done to me, what I did to you...I...probably would have attacked you too. That doesn't-...doesn't make it right,...but,...I understand. And,...I am sorry."_

Tron looked at him for a long time, silent.

Kevin looked at him too, surprised.  
_God, he's really starting to sound like me.  
That's what scares me the most.  
_

Finally Tron answered Clu solemnly, _"I... forgive you. And,...I am sorry that I attacked you."_

Kevin breathed a sigh, relieved. After a moment, he handed them each their disks back.

"_Okay...there we go. See, guys?...that wasn't so tough..."_

He wasn't going to fool himself that things between Tron and Clu were just magically fixed, or that either of them were completely stabilized, but, at least they were on their way.

"_Now,...if you two can try not to go ballistic,...I'm going to go in there and grab some breakfast for us. Then we gotta get started on this 'all for one, one for all' thing,...see if we can figure out what's happened to the Grid, how to fix it."_

Kevin walked a few steps, stopped at the table, looked back at Tron and Clu, then turned and walked back down the hallway to the kitchen, alone with his thoughts.

_This is exhausting, kinda like having two virtual teenage sons now.  
I've only been awake an hour, and I've already done more parenting than most real parents in the User world do all day.  
It figures.  
Probably my karma. _


	14. Chapter 14

Kevin stood in the small kitchen. He couldn't quite make up his mind what to prepare for their "breakfast". It didn't help matters that there was never a distinction between morning and night – it was dark outside, all the time - so it wasn't like he ever just sprang out of bed with the sunrise and went, _"Hey! Breakfast time! Lets have eggs!"_  
Usually he just went with something very light,...muffins, fresh fruit, and some green tea.

He shrugged.  
_Okay, so, we'll have the usual._

He pressed a sequence of buttons on the digitizing platform, initiated the process, then sighed and stood with eyes closed for a moment. He really needed to meditate, think, re-center himself. He was still a bit addled from having intervened in the skirmish between Tron and Clu, but even aside from that, there was the issue of the Grid, and of what was happening everywhere in the system. So many thoughts were vying for attention in his mind at once, so much left to do and to undo, so many unanswered questions, yet so many answers he had already and wished he didn't have. And to think this all started as a game.

While he waited for the meal to digitize, he walked slowly around the kitchen, his thoughts drifting idly.  
Then he thought again of his son, and suddenly he recalled a memory from when Sam was here with him...

_...they were on the Solar Sailer. Kevin had the hooded robe on, and came walking up towards Sam, who turned and chuckled, then grinned at him._

"_Dad,...you look kinda like Obi-Wan Kenobi."_

_Kevin chuckled, raising his gray-tinged eyebrows as he pulled back the hood, "Who?..."_

"_You remember,... the guy in the Star Wars movie?..."_

_Kevin laughed, "Oh yeah!...ha!..." he thought for a minute, then waved a hand, "...may the Force be with you..." _

_This prompted laughter from his son. Kevin smiled fondly, leaning his hands against the railing and looking down, more memories drifting back to him._

"_Hey, you remember when we made you the costume for Halloween that time?... the guy, ...with the furry sidekick, and the spaceship,...what- what was his name?..."_

_Sam laughed again, recalling the memory, "Han Solo, dad."_

_Kevin nodded, laughing along with him, "That's right!...man - you had the time of your life running around in that!...you wanted to take the dog trick-or-treating with you...and you would've too, if grandma and grandpa had let you...you kept calling him-...oh what was it?..."_

_Kevin paused, snapping his fingers trying to recall the name, then he and Sam both said it at the same - "Chewie!"_

_Sam nodded, laughing and blushing slightly, then rolled his eyes, shook his head, still smiling._

_Kevin smiled too, but then after a moment his smile faded slightly, as he recalled with wistful sadness how on that particular Halloween night he'd gone back to work, obsessed with re-writing a program, and how not too many months later he'd gone back to work one night, ended up on the Grid again, and gotten trapped there - or, here, that is. He thought of how, between the Grid and his own obsessiveness, there was so much of his son's life he had missed and he could never get those years back. _

"_I'm... sorry I wasn't there,... son..."_

Kevin's voice wavered slightly with emotion, as he looked back at his grown-up little boy. He wasn't just talking about that Halloween night. Sam nodded, tightening his lips a bit but then giving a soft smile.

"_Me too...dad. But you're here now...and,...so am I."  
_

The persistent beep of the digitizing panel chimed, jarring Kevin out of the memory and back to the present.

He sighed, walking over to the panel to silence the insistent beeping.  
_Alright, alright already._  
_Jeez. That thing's worse than having a pager._

He stopped, jarred by the sudden realization - the pager - if Clu could reach his son in the real world, so could he. At least to let him know he was still alive. Which would be fine, as long as Sam didn't go off on,...oh, what was that they'd said in that movie - "some damned fool idealistic crusade" to rescue his dad from the Grid again, then they just might have a chance at figuring this whole thing out. One damned idealistic fool in the Flynn family was quite enough, and Kevin was definitely that.

He smiled again, thinking about his funny, clever, brave, handsome, grown-up son, and how proud he was of him. He chuckled again, at the memory he'd just had.  
_Son,...if I was like Obi-Wan Kenobi, I wouldn't have gone off and gotten myself stuck inside a computer in the first place._

He chuckled again, then he sighed, and collected the meal from the platform. They all had much to discuss, and in time he'd bring this pager idea up as an option, but for now they had to try to ascertain what had happened to Tron, and what had happened to the Grid.

He grabbed the breakfast tray and carried it quickly through the kitchen, heading for the main room.

__

-0101010101010101010101-

Kevin poured another cup of the green tea, and handed it to Tron to try, who then sipped it and instantly pursed his lips at the strong bitter flavor.

"_Wow,...that's...unusual."_ Tron said with a stern expression, smacking his lips and setting the cup down.

Kevin quirked an eyebrow and chuckled, _"Did you just say 'wow'?..."_

Tron nodded, _"I'm not sure green tea is for me..."_ He picked up his glass of ice-water and took a gulp, then clinked the ice cubes around in the water glass. He looked back up at Kevin, crunching on a piece of ice and adding in his usual courteous way, _"...but,...thank you, though."_

Kevin shook his head with a half-grin, _"Man, you're so much like Alan...I really never noticed how much before. All you need's a pair of glasses,...well,...that, and a suit and tie."_

Tron quirked his head slightly, and Kevin could tell the program had no idea what he was talking about.

"_...never mind. So,..."_

Kevin paused, setting down his cup, then momentarily glanced at Clu, who was once again tinkering with the small chrome model of the bit which had been on the mantelpiece.  
_Man, he just will not leave that thing alone._  
_Hm.  
I wonder if he somehow remembers Bit?  
That's impossible...that was Clu 1, not Clu 2. No way. _

Refocusing his thoughts again, Kevin turned back to Tron. The program had just been through quite an upsetting turn of events as it was, and was in somewhat of a somber mood, so he didn't want to steer things to yet another uncomfortable topic, but they were going to have to start figuring things out from somewhere, somehow.

Kevin crossed his arms and leaned forward against the tabletop, speaking gently and with concern.

_"Tron,...are there still gaps in your memories?...that you're aware of?..."_

Tron didn't seem uneasy at discussing this, and simply nodded matter-of-factly, _"Yes."_

Kevin thought for a moment, then proceeded. _"Do you remember when we found you outside the arcade?" _

Tron shook his head, seemingly only mildly puzzled but not upset. _"No."_

Kevin nodded, then continued, _"But you remember when we re-booted you. in the lab at the arcade?_

Tron nodded,_"Yes."_

Kevin raised an eyebrow, _"...anything in between?"_

Tron just shook his head, _"No."_

Kevin sighed, rubbing his forehead.  
_Yikes, man. Speaking of Bit.  
At this rate, with only 'yes' and 'no' answers this could take a long time._

Kevin sat back in his chair and thought for a moment, eyes narrowing. Clu wandered back over to the table and sat down, still holding the chrome model of the bit. Kevin leaned forward again, deciding to try a different tactic.

"_Tell you what -...I 'got an idea here..."_ he stood up, setting all their cups on the tray and pushing the tray down to the other end of the table to get it out of their way. Then he sat back down in his chair.

"_...I've been feeling a little like I need to meditate this morning,...just, kinda clear my head, you know?...maybe figure out how to work backwards, from the answers we have to the questions we need to ask,..."_

He paused, looking first at Tron, then at Clu. __

"So,...I'm thinking, why don't we all try it? Together?...just,... kinda sit here, and get really quiet for a while,...and think,... about the situation...Tron can work on memories,...Clu, you just work on sitting in one spot for a while,...and, we'll see if that helps."

Tron considered it, shrugged and gave an affable nod.

Clu considered it, then looked at Kevin, _"If...you fall asleep in your chair this time,... should we wake you up, or just let you sleep?..." _

Kevin frowned, opening his mouth to say something mildly flippant in return, but closed it when he realized Clu was actually serious.

"_...uhm,...well,...I'm...pretty sure I'm not gonna' fall asleep this time. I was just exhausted before, at the lab. But,...I guess if I were to,...then just,...let me sleep, man. But,...moot point, because I'm not gonna' fall asleep. So... let's try this, yeah?..."_

Tron and Clu shrugged, and both nodded.

Kevin sat straight back in his chair, placed both palms gently out in front of him on the table, relaxed with a deep breath, then closed his eyes.  
Tron watched what Kevin had done, and did the same thing, closing his eyes.  
Clu looked at both of them, deciding he would keep his eyes open and simply think that way. So he put his elbows on the table, relaxing as best he could, held up the small chrome bit model between his fingers, and quietly stared at it, turning it around and around as he did.

Several nanocycles went by. The room was totally silent, as the three of them sat there.

Then suddenly, there was a small _"clink!"_ sound as something hit the glass-top table.

Tron opened his eyes.

Kevin didn't have to.

He sighed, opened one eye, and looked at Clu, who had dropped the bit model while tinkering with it, and now sat very still with his hands covering it, quietly looking down at the tabletop.

"_Clu?..."_ Kevin asked in a calm voice, still with only one eye open, _"...ya think the bit could maybe sit this one out?..." _

Clu shifted his eyes to look at Kevin. Then he quietly pushed the bit model slowly away down the tabletop, and returned his hands to rest peacefully in front of him on the table. Kevin gave him a wink and closed his other eye again.

-0101010101010101010101010101-

Many, many nanocycles had gone by.  
Clu had lost count of them, though he hadn't really been counting them anyway.  
He had simply been trying to sit there quietly without disturbing either Kevin or Tron, because he hadn't gotten much thinking accomplished during the thinking session. He really did think more efficiently when he had some object to hold onto, but he wasn't about to reach for the geometric bit model again. It had the potential to be far too noisy. So instead he leaned his chin on his hand, and stared at it, letting his gaze travel over it's facets.

There was something about this bit which he found very soothing, but he couldn't quite understand why. It was just an ordinary model of an ordinary bit, and the system was filled with ordinary bits just like this one. But this one for some reason he was very fond of. He liked it even better than the chromed spheres. It was smaller, and easier to hold onto, and as soon as the three of them completed this thinking session which Kevin was so interested in doing, he was going to ask Kevin if he could perhaps keep it. Or if they could digitize one for him which was just like it. For now, he would simply stare at it, and think, since they were supposed to be thinking after all.

Although, in all fairness to himself, he felt this approach was a bit odd - to just sit and think this way. It was more like thinking about thinking, and that was what was odd - he didn't ever think about thinking, especially in long stretches like this...he tended to simply think, get an idea, and then do. That was the way he was programmed.

Nevertheless, he was content to do as Kevin had often suggested – _to trust the process, even if he didn't see where it was going right now._ And perhaps by trusting this process, then logically, if he sat there and stared at the bit long enough, maybe he would think of something which would help them.

Instead, he found himself once again wondering what it was that was so fascinating about this bit, and why he was so fond of it.

Then he thought about how odd it was that he did not know why he was so fond of it...he was a program with directives...he had a logical reason for everything he did, everything he felt...and yet, not this time. He had no logical reason for liking this bit.

And yet he did like this bit, and did not know why. This was maddening. And it was distracting. He was supposed to be thinking, or thinking about thinking, to find a solution to their problem of the Grid, not thinking about why he was fond of this bit and why he did not know why he was so fond of this bit. Yet he found he could not get it off his mind. It was really bothering him. And it bothered him more and more, until finally he had had enough – he reached across the tabletop, grabbed the bit model off the table, held it up and blurted out quite seriously and with great urgency,  
_  
"...I do not know why I like this! And that's unacceptable!.."_

Kevin and Tron both jumped, startled, opening their eyes. Tron stared at Clu strangely, then got an irritated frown. He started to speak, perhaps to reprimand Clu but, Kevin glanced at him and held up his hand slightly, a patient look on his face.

"_No,...wait,...it's cool,...he gave meditation a shot, and this is what he came up with...he got stuck in a loop. Happens to me all the time, bugs me just as much."_

Kevin looked back at Clu. The program was clearly very upset. This wasn't exactly what they were supposed to be addressing in this problem-solving session, but, might as well work through it. He cleared his throat and nodded, _"Okay...Clu,...well,...that's understandable...you need to know the reasons 'why' for things..."_

Then he sat back in his chair, continuing, _"...sometimes it's hard to find a reason why right away. Sometimes it takes awhile,...and,...sometimes we never find out why, and we have to be okay with that – ...remember when I said that being okay with not knowing some things is a form of perfection?..." _

Clu looked at him, then looked down at the table. _"Yes,..." _

Kevin, nodded. _"Well,...this might be one of those things. Besides, sometimes I like stuff and I don't know why - like, ...these beads, for example..."_

He held up his wrist, showing Clu his bracelet.

"_I wear 'em all the time...don't know why I like them so much. Other than I just like the shape, like the way they look...and,...sometimes, I can just look at them or feel them on my wrist and remind myself to be calm, to not react, to let go of things, to just be...and I like that,...so I guess that's a reason why I like them."_

Kevin pointed at the bit model, _"...your reason why you like that bit, or why you like anything,... is for you to decide, and,... it can change from time to time if you want it to. And if you don't have a reason, that's okay too...sometimes it's okay not to know."_

Clu nodded, absorbing this.  
He was quiet a moment, and simply held up the model of the bit again, looking at it so very intensely, as though he were trying to will it into explaining itself.

Kevin couldn't help but smile at Clu...in his own way, he was perfection – he was the perfect embodiment of determination.

"_Tell you what, Clu...I'm gonna' give you that bit. It's yours to keep. Carry it around with ya' if you want to, that's up to you. But even if you never figure out why it is you like it so much,...that's still okay."_

Clu looked at Kevin and his eyes lit up. Then he glanced at Kevin's bracelet, and then looked back at the bit model, and then he smiled, his eyes lighting up even more. It was as though he had just discovered the theory of relativity. He looked back at Kevin again, with a look of pride.

"_I think that every time I look at it, I will remind myself that it is okay not to know why I like it...and...that will be why I like it,...for now."_

Kevin chuckled, shook his head, and smiled.  
_Clu, woulda' been nice to have you around when I was failing Logic my freshman year at college. _

Just then, Tron suddenly sat up straight in his chair, his eyes fixed on the bit model for a moment, then he looked at Kevin. _"I just remembered something!"_

Kevin's eyes widened, _"Yeah?...what?..."_

Tron continued excitedly, _"Do you remember when he had one of those with him all the time – but, it was a real bit?...maybe that is why he likes this one?..._

Kevin looked at him, eyes narrowing.  
It was very odd that while completely devoid of most of his past memories Tron would suddenly remember that very same obscure thing he himself had remembered just a few moments ago.

"_Well,..I...I wondered that too, Tron,...for a sec,...but,...then I remembered, ...that was Clu 1.0,...his predecessor. He's Clu 2,...so, he wouldn't have that in his memory, ...you know?"_

"_Oh,..."_ Tron nodded, but from the look on his face it was clear he was confused.

Clu just kept looking at the bit model, because this kind of talk didn't faze him. He'd often heard his Creator discuss his predecessor, and besides, Clu knew that he had been a great improvement over Clu 1.

Suddenly Tron smiled. _"Yes! Now I remember!...I remember,...Clu 1.0 ...was before,...and,..."_

Tron paused, his smile fading. _"...and,...the Master Control Progra-AAAGHH!"_

Tron suddenly jolted back in his chair, screaming and grabbing his head, wincing and wrenching his eyes shut as though in pain,...then he opened his eyes, a look of complete and utter panic on his face. The lights on his suit flickered, but then resumed. He tried to stand, but only succeeded in knocking over his chair, then stumbling, falling backward onto the floor.

"_Tron!..."_ Kevin vaulted out of his own chair and was immediately at Tron's side.

Clu stood up and ran around the table, looked at Tron who sat on the floor staring with wild panicked eyes, then looked back at Kevin, extremely confused. _"What's wrong with him?...What's happening to him?"_

Kevin shook his head, _"I'm not sure..."_

And just then, Tron looked at Kevin, and then to Clu, and then back to Kevin, and the look on his face was not just one of urgency, it was of sheer terror. He grabbed onto Kevin's arm, tried to calm himself, then tried to answer, _"...the M- "_

But somehow, Kevin suddenly realized what was happening, and interrupted him before he could say it again, _"NO Tron!..."_

Tron looked at him, shocked and confused, but then Kevin gently put his hands on either side of Tron's face, looked right into his eyes, and spoke calmly to him.

_"Don't-...don't need to say it, Tron...it's okay...I know... know what you're trying to say..."_

Tron looked at him with pleading confused eyes, finally managing a whisper, _"You do?..." _

Kevin nodded, continuing in a calm voice, though calm was anything but what he felt inside. _"Yes,...I do. Trust me...you don't need to say it."_

Tron nodded, seeming relieved. This seemed to calm and reassure Tron, and the very fact that it did so sent chills through Kevin. He looked up at Clu.

Clu definitely didn't understand. They were talking - or not talking, rather - with great fear and trepidation about a program which, as far as he understood things, no longer existed, and hadn't for many cycles. This didn't make sense. _"The MCP?..."_ he blurted out, confused.

With the very mention of the letters, Kevin cringed as Tron's eyes wrenched shut again and he flinched, but no pain came. He opened his eyes, then slowly relaxed again, clearly not quite sure what to think. He looked at Kevin, then looked down.

Kevin exhaled, watching Tron for a moment more and patting him on the shoulder, then turned his head to look up at Clu. He somehow managed to stay calm as he spoke, but his voice was definitely firm.

"_Yes, Clu,...now,...do not say it again. Please."_

Clu nodded, but he was clearly baffled.  
Kevin could see that, and really, so was he - and so was Tron - but, Kevin had a feeling he understood some of what might be happening. And from the looks of things, his suspicions were correct.

Kevin stood, then helped Tron to his feet, and turned the chair upright again. Once standing, Tron looked at Clu and Kevin, and then immediately lowered his head. The expression on his face was that of anguish, remorse, shame.  
This only confirmed Kevin's suspicions, and he looked at Tron, slowly shaking his head and speaking gently.

"_No, Tron,...you haven't done anything wrong- you haven't said anything wrong. We will fix this...we will,...I promise you. I-...I don't know how, but...we will...just know that,...okay?..." _

Tron looked at Kevin, nodding tentatively, but traces of doubt and worry were still in his eyes. Kevin stepped closer to him.

"_You are Tron...you fight for the Users. You are my friend...and I will not stop fighting for you. Do you understand that?...I will NOT stop fighting for you..."_  
Kevin glanced at Clu, then looked back at Tron, _"...WE - will not stop fighting for you. We will fix this." _

Tron nodded, then slowly sat down in the chair.

Kevin took a deep breath, exhaling and walking slowly across the room, finally stopping at the mantel. He placed his hands up to rest against it, then leaned forward and stood there a moment just looking down at the floor, silent. Clu watched him, then walked over to him slowly. He wasn't sure what had just transpired, but he knew that if something was serious enough to invoke this kind of reaction in his Creator, it must be gravely serious.

Kevin raised his head to look at Clu, then stood up, dropping his arms from the mantel, and turned to him with a sigh. Clu didn't speak, but it was obvious he was concerned and confused. Kevin now had the burden of trying to explain that which he wasn't sure just how he understood, and that which he really only understood very little of to begin with.

"_I'm still not sure of most of it, but,...here's what I'm getting..."_ Kevin took a deep breath, and began, _"...something happened to Tron, in between the time that you and I last saw him just before the portal and the time when we found him outside the arcade. And...whatever happened - it would seem, has something to do with the MCP..."_

Kevin turned slightly, glancing at Tron,and then continued.

_"...I don't know if he remembers what happened, ...but,... it would appear... that he can't talk about it - can't even say the words, not even the letters MCP - ...either because he's been programmed not to,... or... because they're somehow monitoring his every word and torturing him if he tries...and,...from the looks of what happened to him before, in the lab,...and what just happened to him just now,...I'd say it's probably the latter." _

Clu's face went ashen. He stared at Kevin, then at Tron, then back at Kevin. He didn't understand how this could be, but he saw the grave reality of this written all over his Creator's face, heard it in his voice. It was also in Tron's face, and in Tron's silence. It was even palpable in the room.

He stood trying to comprehend just what they were supposed to do next, when suddenly Kevin spoke again, addressing that very question. The urgency they had seen before in Tron's face was now in Kevin's. And Clu watched Kevin putting pieces of this together even as he spoke.

"_Clu,...we have to get in touch with my son...he has to know I'm alive...he-...he has to know not to try to come here,...and,...and,... absolutely he has to know not to breathe a word about the Grid, or me, or the ISOs - to anyone - at least, not, not until we can figure out what's going on...because..."_

Kevin turned to look at Tron, then back at Clu again.

"_...I'm afraid that,...if this-...if this is the MCP,...and if it can do this to Tron...all the way out here... then ...it may not be just here in this world anymore, Clu...it...it may be in the User world too...which means,... ...it can do this...to my son."_


	15. Chapter 15

In the aftermath of Kevin Flynn's words, the room was completely silent for several nanoseconds, and no one moved.

Tron still sat at the table, staring down at the tabletop. Kevin still stood halfway between the mantel and the table, staring at the floor. Clu still stood by the mantel, staring at Kevin. The pervasive gravity of his Creator's statements were undeniable, as was the fact that Kevin seemed to truly believe them, yet all of it was playing havoc with Clu's logic. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Kevin, and he finally spoke.

"_How do you know this?...how can you be sure it's true,...or even possible?..."_

Kevin just looked up at him, but didn't say anything. This of course wasn't the first time Clu had questioned either his perspective on things or his veracity, but it was the first time he'd been honest with him about doing so. And it was the first time he had done so face to face. For that, Kevin was grateful...to him it was a show of respect, and growth. And he didn't blame Clu one bit for doubting him - any sane sentient being, be it program or human, would have questioned the validity of what Kevin had just said. The only trouble was, he knew it to be true yet he couldn't fathom how to even begin to explain that, or any of it.

Just then, Tron stood up from the table, raising his eyes slowly from the tabletop to look at Clu with a face as grave as what Kevin had just suggested. At that moment the sheer unwavering certainty and intensity in Tron's eyes could have frozen the entire Sea of Simulation into solid ice, and if it had, the words he spoke next would have shattered it.

"_**Believe it."**_

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...2010, Los Angeles, CA

The sun had just barely set over the skyline, and already endless rows of red tail lights lined the freeway ahead, an equally endless streak of white headlights sprawling for miles and miles in the other direction. The inimitable L.A. rush-hour traffic had begun, once again living up to its perpetual irony, in that the word 'rush' didn't apply...cars were hardly moving at all.

"_Oh screw this..."_ Sam Flynn's voice resounded in his own ears, and his frustrated sigh fogged the face-shield of his helmet.  
Sighing again, he flipped up the face-shield, rolled back the Ducati a few inches from the car in front of him, angled the wheel, and then waited. The moment the car accelerated forward, he hit the throttle and maneuvered the bike in between the two lanes, gunning the engine to let the drivers know he was there. His lane-splitting decision apparently didn't agree with one of the drivers, who decided to honk at him as he rolled past and merged into the exit lane, but he kept right on going and simply flashed a quick 'peace' sign.

"_Yeah, that's V for victory, pal...I'm outta' here. You guys have fun."_

He accelerated down the ramp, zipped along between the two lanes of cars that were waiting at the traffic light, then rolled to the very head of the line, positioning himself in front of the first car just in time for the light to change to green. Then he cornered left, zoomed across the bridge and down the road, only to have to slow to a stop when the next light began to change.

He sat there for a few moments, waiting, tapping his foot absently on the ground. Then he tried flashing his brights to trigger a light change, but, no such luck.  
_Figures.  
This would have to be one of those punishment-lights._

Just then the wireless headset chimed in his ear, and he glanced down at the cell phone in the tank-bag. Through the open mesh of the bag he could read the number on the lit up screen...sure enough, it read "Bradley, Alan". He pressed the 'answer' button just as the light finally began to change, and then spoke into the headset mic as he accelerated forward.

"_...thought that might be you..." _

He heard static in the earpiece, then Alan's voice, _"...Sam?...where are you?...sounds like you're in a wind tunnel..." _

Sam flipped the face-shield back down on the bike and the static sound stopped.

"_...my bad,...sorry - 'this a bit better?..."_

"_Much. Hey, where are you?...you were just on the freeway...I saw you pass by - in a blur..."_

Sam chuckled, _"...oops,...that wasn't you that honked, was it?" _

"_It sure was. You split lanes even scarier than your father did..."_

Sam chuckled again and sighed. _"Yeah. Guess so. Nice grammar, by the way..."_

Alan chuckled. "_Okay,... 'even more scarily',... is that better?..."_

"_Much. So yeah, I got fed-up with the wait. I'm taking the surface streets. Shortcuts, two wheels, you know..."_

There was a pause on the line. He heard Alan sigh, and he could picture him rolling his eyes.

"_Okay,...,... but, you realize you'll just have to wait on me now. I've still got probably quite a few more minutes of sitting in this mess." _

"_Not a problem... I'm thinking I'll buzz by the Arcade and kill some time...almost there now..." _

"_Well,...so you want me to call when I get off the freeway?..."_

"_Better idea - why don't you just meet me there at the arcade?...then we can just walk a few blocks and get some dinner..."_

Alan burst out laughing, and spoke with a cynical tone._ "Walk?...in that neighborhood?...no thank you, I'll pass. I don't have the Flynn lucky-genes..."_

Sam chuckled at Alan's remark, but it was only at the irony of the statement...genetics hadn't been all that lucky for the Flynns - almost always in the wrong place at the wrong time. But thankfully the ability to spark with a quirky comeback or a clever pun did seem to go with the legacy.

"_I've never even seen you wear jeans once, Alan,... Lucky's or not..." _

Alan paused. Sam chuckled to himself, mentally counting down, 3,...2,...1,...and then came Alan's slightly defensive reply.

"_What?...I wear jeans!... often!...usually only on the weekends, sure, but I do wear them,...and besides,...what does that have to do with whether or not we walk to-"_

Sam was trying not to laugh at Alan's predictable reply, but what made it more funny was the fact that somehow the actual pun itself had gone right over Alan's head.  
He finally interrupted, chuckling in spite of himself.

_"Never mind__, Alan... I was trying to make a joke..."_ and then he continued, changing the subject as he slowed down and parked the bike in front of the arcade, "_...hey I'm pretty much here,... so,...I guess, just, what - you wanna' come pick me up here, and you drive us someplace?..."_

There was a pause, then he heard Alan sigh. _ "Alright,...sure... " _and then another long pause, followed by Alan's voice sounding slightly insulted, _"...but I do wear jeans!...I don't know where you got that from!..."_

Sam just finally burst out laughing, then quickly recovered enough to speak, clearing his throat, "_...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know you do...I know you do, Alan,...and,...'love ya for it - don't go changin'... " _

There was another pause, and an exasperated sigh. Sam still chuckled to himself silently, pressing his lips together so as not to make a sound. His father had been right - it was far too easy to yank Alan's chain.

"_Okay,...smarty,...I'll see you shortly."_

Sam nodded, _"I'll be here."_

Still grinning, he disconnected the call, tucking the cell phone into his pocket and locking the bike. His grin faded as he looked up at the old neon sign, faded and dust-covered, it's non-illumined tubes barely visible against the old bricks. Flynn's Arcade.

He sighed.  
Three days had passed, and still it really hadn't completely sunken in yet.  
It was hard to believe that after all these years and all the searching, then finally finding him...now this, and a few precious memories, were all he had left of his father.  
Well, this and Encom.  
And, Quorra - he had Quorra.

That thought prompted him to pull his cell phone back out of his pocket. He disconnected the blue-tooth from the helmet head-set connection, then dialed the number of Quorra's new cell phone as he walked towards the front door. The number rang, but then the signal wavered and the call was dropped. He dialed again. Then went straight to voice-mail without even ringing.  
_That's odd...must be finally time to recharge the battery on her phone.  
Really need to remember to record an actual outgoing message too, instead of that stock computerized voice._

He sighed, waiting, then cleared his throat, looking absently around at the deserted street as he left the message.

"_Hey Quorra,...it's me,...Sam...but...then you know that, because you know my voice,...ha,..well, that plus it shows my number on the phone...and...who else would be calling right?..."_

He paused, rolling his eyes at his verbal awkwardness, then continued.

"_..anyway,...I think the battery's finally run down on your phone,... it went right to voice-mail...yeah,...so,...uh...if you want I can show you how to re-charge it when I get home...so...anyway,...I'm meeting dad's friend Alan for dinner, be back a little later...uh...hey I'll bring you somethin' back to eat if you want?...yeah, so,... if you get this, call me, ok?..."_

He hung up and shook his head.  
_Nice, Sam...you sounded like a fifteen-year-old.  
_Then putting the cell back in his pocket, he walked towards the front door of the arcade.

The old lock was as stubborn as always, even after having added some graphite lubricant. The key didn't want to fit at first, then it still took him several tries of jiggling the key before the tumblers clicked.  
_Gotta get that lock fixed. Maybe it's time to change it._

Walking into the room again still felt odd, sad, empty.  
He flipped on the lights. He'd disconnected the sound system on his last visit, so this time only silence greeted him. That, and a room full of dust-covers. They all looked like ghosts hanging over the games that way.

He wiped at one of the dust-covers with his finger, sending a small cloud of dust airborne. That would be the next undertaking - cleaning this place up, then seeing which if any of the games still worked. After that, adding some new ones, putting in a new sound system, carpet, repairing the lighting, an alarm system, the door locks, the list was staggering. He took a deep breath, then chuckled to himself wryly. He could almost hear his dad's voice. _One thing at a time, Sam,...one thing at a time._

At least he'd gotten the utilities changed over into his name.  
He still found it very odd that Encom had been carrying the bill for it all this time with the place out-of-business and all closed up. He also found it odd that Alan hadn't really found that odd. He definitely needed to talk with Alan about that.  
In fact, he definitely needed to talk with Alan about a lot of things, like, pretty much everything...the Grid, what happened to his dad, where Quorra had come from, the whole nine yards. He didn't know why he hadn't wanted to speak of any of it yet with him. Something just told him not to. Maybe he wasn't ready.

He ran his fingers absent-mindedly to the chip casing he wore on a chain around his neck.

Then he glanced up, and at the far wall was the 'Tron' game.  
He just looked at it for long moments. He hadn't noticed it's being all lit up before, but then again kind of a lot had been going on.  
He finally walked over to it, running a hand over the facing of the machine, then staring at the display screen. He felt like he'd lived this game.  
Because he had.

Very surreal. Very surreal indeed. He thought for a second about pulling the machine away from the wall and accessing the lab, but, just as he'd done the previous day when he'd come back to the arcade, once again he talked himself out of it.  
_Nope, not going in there. Just not ready yet.  
_Glancing at his watch, he sighed.  
_Besides, Alan will be here soon anyway._

He turned, walked towards the front of the arcade, then walked around looking at the flooring, checking out the condition of the walls, doing the things he supposed were "the next right thing to do" in this situation. He walked around the entire place looking at what repairs would need to be done.

And then he found himself right back at the Tron game. He stared at it, then his gaze traveled down to the floor, as he thought back again to the lab, to the Grid, to everything.  
No, this wasn't surreal. Surreal wasn't the word for all of this. There really wasn't one, actually.

Just then he noticed something down on the floor in the shadows at the back of the game machine. It was a game token.  
He bent down and picked it up, smiling sadly and then turning it over his fingers. Then he stood up, and stared at the game machine for a long time, still running the token over his fingers absently.  
He wasn't really sure what convinced him to finally put the token in the slot, but he did. And once he had, the display screen sprung to life in an array of color.  
Since the machine appeared to be actually working, he somehow convinced himself that he might as well play for a minute.

He looked at his watch, then tapped uneasily at the side of the machine. No. He should just hit 'return', get the token back and forget about it.  
_But it's just a game, Sam. He isn't there. Not anymore. _

_Oh what the hell._  
He pressed the "select number of players" button.

It didn't do anything.  
So he pressed it again.  
Still nothing.  
_Crap. It's not working?_

He pressed it a third time, then the number of players selected suddenly jumped to three.  
_Nah, it works, just has a short in it. _

The menu disappeared and the display changed to a grid screen, with three light-cycles at the starting point. The words "press start" blinked at the bottom of the screen.  
He stared at the grid screen.  
_You know what - no. I'm not playing this. This is just too weird. Just hit 'return' and get the token back.  
_Yet he still stood there staring at the grid screen.

Finally he reached for the joystick, and was just about to press the 'start' button, when Alan's voice at the door made him jump nearly out of his skin and he whirled around.

Alan looked suddenly apologetic. "_Sorry – didn't mean to startle you...I thought you heard me calling your name from the sidewalk..." _he paused, gesturing back at the front door, _"Hey, you know you left the door wide open...?"  
_

Sam exhaled, nerves still slightly jangled. He ran a hand through his hair, then nodded.

"_Yeah...um,...just...trying to let this place air out a little..."  
_

Alan nodded, sniffing the musty air, then started looking around at the walls and at the room full of dust-covers. Sam turned quickly back to the machine, pushed 'return', and the token bounced into the coin return with a "clink" sound.  
Then he pocketed the token and turned back around, walking over to where Alan stood.

"_Some of the games still work...probably most of them do...just have to test 'em all out and see...lot's of work to do in here though,...before I get to that point,..."  
_

Alan looked back at him, and nodded. He paused a moment, then spoke,_ "You sure you want to do all this?...between this and Encom, it's a lot to take on..."  
_

Sam nodded, looking down at the floor for a moment.  
Then he looked back up at Alan, and the look on his face was that of a man who'd taken a few solid steps towards being much wiser than his years. "_Yeah. It's time."  
_

Alan nodded in reply, and gave a thoughtful look. Sam reached for the keys and they both walked towards the door. As Alan walked past him and out the doorway, he glanced at Sam's leather jacket, pullover sweater and jeans, then couldn't resist chiding him just a bit, in his usual paternal way.

"_Next thing I know, you'll be wearing a suit and tie to work."  
_

Sam pulled the door shut, turning the key in the lock, and looked back at Alan with a smirk. "_Yeah,...don't count on it. A suit's just not my thing..."_ he chuckled, pocketing the keys and walking over to grab his helmet off the bike, _"...and ties are way too uptight."_

Alan cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. Sam looked at him, then broke into a grin, ear-to-ear. _"...except on you. On you, a tie looks fantastic." _

Smirking, Alan raised an eyebrow.  
After which Sam nodded enthusiastically, with the most infuriating expression of mock-innocence he could muster, and chuckled, _"Really!...I'm serious!..."_

Alan raised both brows, and smirked even more.  
The smirk finally turned to a smile and he shook his head. He nodded towards the car, _"Come on,...let's go,... before you insult my shoes, too..." _then he walked over and opened the passenger door.

Sam started to get in, but then hesitated, leaned over slightly to glance at Alan's shoes, then looked back up at him, grinned, and didn't say a word. Then he got in the car.  
Alan simply rolled his eyes, closing the door and walking around the car, while Sam chuckled quietly to himself.

"_So,...what do you feel like eating?..." _Alan asked, buckling his safety belt.

Sam shrugged, thought for a moment, then looked at him, _"Pizza?...there's a place a few blocks down,...seems like it's been there for ages, so I guess it's probably gotta be pretty good..."_

Alan looked at him for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, and half-chuckled.  
He looked back at the steering wheel for a second, a slight wistful smile on his face. Then he exhaled, shrugged and turned the key in the ignition.

"_Alright,...'sure won't argue with that. Pizza it is."_


	16. Chapter 16

Sam sighed and disconnected the call, then tossed his cell phone onto the seat beside him, sighing. He still wasn't able to get an answer on Quorra's cell. The pizza he and Alan had ordered still wasn't ready. And Alan still wasn't done talking to whoever had called him. Through the window Sam watched him pacing back and forth outside on the sidewalk ranting occasionally into his cell, just as he'd been doing for almost fifteen minutes.

He sat back in the seat, then stared at the objects on the table... glass shakers full of dried cheese and red pepper, a napkin dispenser, a dispenser of packaged sweeteners. He fiddled with the red pepper shaker for a moment, set it back down, took a sip of his iced tea, absently tapped on the table for a few seconds, then picked his cell phone up and stared at it, idly wondering how long it would take him to phreak a callback number and play a prank on Alan. Being bored and not wanting to face one's own thoughts was not typically a combo which the Flynn minds handled too terrifically well,... at least, not without resorting to technological pranks which sometimes verged on the mildly juvenile, but, he decided against indulging himself. Besides, he'd pushed the envelope far enough with hassling Alan for one day's time.

He turned around, surveying the small restaurant. The place had definitely been there for ages. There was an old jukebox in the back by the restrooms. The diner-style barstools at the counter had a definite authentic 1970's flare, with aging discolored olive-green vinyl cushions, a couple of which had tape spots covering old cracks and tears where the cushion joined to the metal base. The entire back wall by the jukebox and kitchen was a montage of different-sized smooth flat beige stones. Even the linoleum smacked of the 70's...various-sized geometric patterns of muted orange and olive green, a strange contrast to the red-checkered tablecloths which graced every booth's table, not to mention the ten different kinds of olive oil over by the menu rack and the old faded Italian flag which hung in the corner by the cash register. Altogether the whole décor seemed a weird collective mismatch, as though the place couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a set from The Godfather or Pulp Fiction.

Sam sat back in the booth again, turned sideways, and then caught a glance of the TV which hung in the far corner by the front door, it's volume on mute. He hadn't noticed it before. There was some show on with people para-sailing, and this interested him. He leaned back sideways in the booth and watched for a few moments, soon discovering it was some sort of parody show where people did outrageous stunts and failed colossally on purpose. As near as he could tell without the benefit of audio, it seemed one of the para-sailers was about to attempt to land on the back of a moving jet-ski, whereupon the guy driving the jet-ski was going to swap places with him and take off with the sail.  
_Yeah. Because that couldn't possibly go awry, right?_

Alan came walking in the front door just as Sam was staring up at the TV screen over his head. Turning to look up, he watched the screen for a second and then turned and walked towards the table with a smirky grin.

_"Taking notes for your next annual stunt?..."_

Alan chuckled, then sat down, but when Sam's brow twitched slightly toward a frown, Alan could tell he might've gotten too close to a nerve, and his smirky grin changed to a contrite expression.

_"Hey,... I'm just joking. You know that...right?..."_

But when Sam gave him a half-smile, Alan knew he was in the clear. He tipped his head slightly, raising both brows.

_"...besides, I owed you one. You've been ribbing me all evening."_

Sam chuckled again and nodded. _"Yeah, guess I have. But it's pretty easy..."_

Alan just gave him a look, reached to take a sip of his untouched ice-water, then crunched on an ice cube while he took off his jacket. He laid the cell phone down on the table, then nodded towards it.

_"Sorry...didn't expect that call to take as long as it did."_

Sam dipped his chin slightly, raising his brows in query, _"Everything alright?..."_

_"Oh, fine,..." _Alan paused, taking another gulp of the water. He shook the cup just enough so that the ice cubes swirled in the glass, staring down at it as he drew a deep breath and sighed. Then he took another sip, crunched on another ice cube, and set the glass down, raising his eyebrow.

_"...well...Ed Jr.'s playing games with the OS 12 project. He's turning this new freeware concept of his into a complete dog and pony show. "_

Sam nearly spit iced tea while trying not to chuckle. _"...and that surprises you,...why?"_

Alan gave him a sour look, then shrugged it off into a simple irritated smirk. _"Doesn't, really. But,... it does mean I'm going back to the office tonight."_

Thankfully the waitress spared them from having an awkward moment of contention, by bringing a very welcome large round tray. Sam sat up, immediately jumping on the chance to change the subject.

_"Pizza's here..."_

Alan turned and smiled as she approached the table, rubbing his palms together. _"And not a moment too soon – I'm starving."_

The two men converged on the pizza with voracious appetite, hardly saying a word until only one large slice remained. Alan sat back in his seat, exhaling.

_"Can't eat another bite. That one's yours."_

Sam shook his head, also sitting back in the seat. _"Nope. Won't even make it through this slice. If you don't mind, I'll take it home though."_

Alan nodded, chuckling, _"Please do. I'm sure Marv will be happy."_

Sam half-smiled and nodded, his thoughts flashing to Quorra. _...yeah, Marv's not gettin' this one..._

A few moments later the waitress had brought Sam the take-out box and plastic bags he'd requested.  
He sat tightly wrapping the wedge-shaped box in several of the plastic bags, one after the other. Alan watched him curiously, then finally spoke.

_"What – you planning to swim to Hawaii with that?..."_

Sam laughed. _"No,... it's just, I don't have a backpack with me... 'gotta carry this inside my jacket on the ride home, and don't really wanna end up wearing sauce."_

Alan dropped the credit card on the table. The waitress took it and hurried off.

Sam glanced up, "Hey, thanks..."

Alan nodded again, _"My pleasure. Haven't had a great pizza like this in a while..."_ he paused, looking out the window that wistful look back in his eyes, _"...you know,...your dad and I came to this place a few times..."_

Sam stopped and looked up at him instantly, raising his brows. His thoughts flashed for a second to the meal he'd shared with his dad and Quorra, then he snapped back to the present moment quickly, looked at Alan and pointed down at the table with a skeptical look.

_"...here?...to this place?"_

Alan nodded, continuing, _" ...oh yeah,...way back,... wayyy back - different management, then of __course,...but... we'd get carry-out, ...bring it back to the lab..."_

Sam gestured with a thumb back in the direction of Flynn's Arcade, and Alan nodded again.

_"Yep. Well,...at least,... I'd get carry-out pizza, maybe 'couple of beers...Kevin of course had to have some weird... alfalfa-... combo-... veggie ...concoction...from the health food place. That, and the most godawful bitter green tea you've ever tasted..."_

Alan smiled fully now, looking down at the table, his eyes gazing off into the distance of the memory, and then he laughed again, shaking his head, _"...only person I ever knew who would put a bunch of bean sprouts on a perfectly good peanut-butter sandwich,...and then fully expect me to eat it..."_

Sam chuckled knowingly, trying to visualize what the two of them hanging out must have been like.  
Two more polar-opposites the world could not have possibly thrown together as friends - Kevin Flynn, who believed that wearing socks was usually a waste of time, and, Alan Bradley, who usually couldn't get through a day without changing his socks at least two times if not three. Yet fast friends they'd always been, so close that it was as though the two of them were brothers.

Just then the waitress returned Alan's card, and he signed the check, then put the card away, standing up from the table. He'd shaken off the wistful look in favor of a resigned wry smile.

_"Ready to go?..."_

Sam stood up, grabbing the heavily-wrapped take-out box, and they walked to the front door.  
Alan looked at his watch and then looked back at Sam.

_"Hey,...I'm sorry I had to cut this so short tonight, ...but,...maybe we can grab dinner again some time next week, really have some time to talk?"_

As Alan was speaking, Sam nodded. Then he found his thoughts gravitating towards the unfathomable task of trying to explain the Grid, his dad, everything. _...next week. yeah. it will take me at least that long to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to say..._

* * *

Sam rolled the Ducati into the living room of the rather unconventional space which he called home. He stood, listening, waiting for the familiar bark and for the tiny bulldog to come barreling excitedly through the room to pounce on him. But there was only silence and an empty room. He looked around the room, softly called out, _"Marv?..."_

Walking towards the sectioned-off bedroom space, he stopped when he heard a faint snore. He quirked his head back just a little, raising his brow and stifling a laugh.  
_...Quorra snores...?_

He tiptoed around the corner of the partition.

The small reading lamp by the bed was still on.  
Sprawled across the bed wearing his sweatpants and sweatshirt, was Quorra, sound asleep.  
Beside her was the book he'd given her yesterday, Jules Verne's In Search of the Castaways. Snuggled close next to her in the crook of her arm, was Marv, also sound asleep, laying on his back and snoring loudly, while Quorra slept on, oblivious.

Sam chuckled very quietly to himself. This was just too cute.

He tiptoed over, flipped off the light, then tiptoed quietly back around the partition to the living room. Taking off his jacket, he walked to the kitchen, stuck the wrapped carry-out box in the fridge, then grabbed a bottle of water, walked over to the couch and flopped down with a sigh, leaning his head back on the cushions.

He was tired. If only just from thinking himself around in circles for hours while trying not to let Alan know something was bothering him.  
Well, at least it's Friday night, which means, no Encom until Monday.  
He was just about to prop his feet on the coffee table when he saw Quorra's cell phone sitting there. He looked at it, then sat up, glancing around the room until he spotted the box with the instruction book and charger, which was all the way back across the room on the kitchen counter. He sighed.

A few steps later and he'd plugged the charger into the wall, placed it on the end-table, sat back down on the couch, and was just about to connect the charger to the phone when he noticed the battery-indicator on the phone still showed quite a bit of battery life was left.  
_...that's weird..._

Looking at the phone, he noticed it wasn't showing any indicator icons for missed calls or voice-mails. It was exactly the same as his phone, so it should have a tiny icon showing for messages and one for a missed call. But none were showing, which meant she'd checked her voice-mail. Yet he hadn't gotten a call back from her.  
_...okay...that's weirder..._

He put the phone back on the table. Then he sat there looking at it, until curiosity got the better of him, and he picked it up again, then pressed the screen until the call menu showed.

But no calls from him were listed, aside from the call he'd placed to her yesterday.  
He raised an eyebrow, checking to see if the 'ringer on' icon was showing. It was. He set her phone back down. Grabbing his phone from his pocket he pressed the call button and redialed her number. He sat there staring at her phone on the table, as he heard her voice-mail answering the line instantly before the first ring.

He sighed.  
_Great.  
Something's wrong with her phone. Brand new too.  
We're going back to the phone store tomorrow.  
Maybe I can fix it myself?  
Maybe.  
No, that'll void the warranty if I screw it up._

He tossed his phone onto the table, leaned back on the couch and let his head flop back to lay against the cushion.

_You know what – whatever. I'll deal with this tomorrow._

He closed his eyes, but it wasn't long before he heard toenails tapping on the floor. Then he felt the cushions sag slightly as Marv jumped on the couch. He opened his eyes, and the miniature bulldog was instantly climbing up his torso, then licking his face. Sam chuckled and the dog gave one choppy bark, then a few snorting growl/whimpers of affection, his whole body wiggling in the absence of a tail to wag. Sam chuckled again, instantly cupping the dog's head softly with his hands. He pressed his forehead to Marv's, nuzzling him and whispering in a low voice.

_"Shhh,...nooo, buddy,...we gotta be quiet..."_

He listened for a moment, but it didn't sound like Quorra had awakened or even stirred.  
Gathering Marv up in his arms, he turned to lay down lengthways on the couch, then made a spot for Marv, who seemed content to snuggle right up to next him.

_...shoulda' really gotten up and gotten a pillow and a blanket...  
...nah,...I'll go get 'em in a little while...  
..just wanna' close my eyes a minute first..._

Within a couple of minutes, both he and the dog were fast asleep.

* * *

At the farthest edge of the enormous main room, Clu slowly paced back and forth, moving like a caged animal. His restless silhouette against the backdrop of the ominous clouded sky only added to the already-present tension in the quiet room.

Kevin stood on the walkway the center of the room watching him, until Clu turned towards him suddenly, and spoke.

_"I have to do something. I cannot just stay here in this room and do nothing..."_

Kevin gave half a chuckle and shook his head.

_"Yeah,...I know what you mean, man,...try twenty-one years of that -"_ and then he caught himself, shaking his head briefly and rephrasing, _"...coupla' hundred thousand cycles of that,...give or take a few..."_ Then as he turned to walk back to the table, he added almost under his breath, _"...perhaps if you'd learn to meditate, you wouldn't be about to crawl out of your skin -...or-...your pixels, I should say..."_

Clu ignored Kevin's comment and continued to pace. Tron still stood by the mantel, staring, but not at anything in particular. Suddenly he turned and spoke to Kevin, nodding in Clu's direction.

_"He's right, you know...we can't just stay here forever and not do anything."_

Kevin extended his arms slightly, nodding, _"Well,...hey - you're preachin' to the choir, man,... I know that. I'm all ears...which one of you has a plan for what we should do next?"_

Kevin waited, and neither Clu nor Tron said anything. Clu still paced, and Tron leaned an arm against the mantel, staring down in thought. Kevin sighed, shaking his head, running his hand through his hair.

_"Aside from the stress of the...current situation,...'think we've got just a touch of what the User world calls, 'cabin fever'..."_

Tron looked up, puzzled. Kevin answered his look with a nod, _"...basically, boredom and restlessness in captivity..."_

Then Kevin turned and walked down the ramp to the recessed area where the table was, began to gather up the breakfast plates and cups onto the tray.

_"Yeah,...funny thing about this place...it's big, but it gets boring fast I guess,...at least, it can if you're not meditating all the time. Being disconnected from the Grid – that's great for a bunker, but,...doesn't leave a lot to do here. It wasn't really designed with anyone besides myself in mind. Then Quorra came along, but, she tended to read a lot anyway,...so..."_

Kevin's voice trailed off, a somber sadness crossing his face briefly, then he quietly turned, walked back up the ramp and slowly crossed the room, eventually disappearing through the doorway which led to the kitchen. Tron watched him walk away, then looked around the room, his gaze stopping at the reading chair. The book was still there on the floor where it had fallen when he'd attacked Clu. He walked over to it, picked it up, then carried it back to the table and placed it on the glass tabletop, just as Kevin was returning from the kitchen.

Tron looked up, turning towards Kevin, _"So we're agreed still...for safety's sake,...that wherever we go, we...stay together?...as a team?..."_

Kevin looked at him, a bit puzzled, scratching his head, then answered in a soft voice, _"W-...well, __yeah,...I...thought we already decided that-..." _but then he stopped speaking when he saw Tron glance over at Clu, realizing the meaning behind his comment.

Clu stopped pacing and looked back at Tron. He didn't say anything at first, but then he glanced at the book which was now on the table. He nodded almost imperceptibly. "_...agreed."_  
Then he turned back to his pacing. But after a moment he stopped again, this time turning and walking quickly back across the room to where Kevin and Tron stood.  
Kevin fought off a smile as he noticed Clu still held the small bit model in his hand.

Clu stopped to stand next to Kevin, his eyes narrowing into a calculating gaze.

_"I have a plan... I think we should go visit the Games Arena."_

Tron's eyes widened and he looked over at Kevin. But Kevin was still looking back at Clu, his own eyes narrowing as well, as he slowly figured out what Clu had in mind.

Kevin very slowly nodded, _"You mean...as...spectators...?"_

Clu answered by slowly letting his lips curl into just the hint of a devious little smile.

Tron looked very pensive about the idea, but raised an eyebrow, watching to see what Kevin's reaction would be. Kevin nodded, considering the suggestion for a moment, then finally broke into a smile chuckling and shaking his head.

_"Ballsy move! - walking right in there and hiding in plain sight...but you know what?...it may be one quick way to figure out what's going on now...or at least get a better idea of it. Plus we could maybe take a look around...while we're there-"_

He stopped speaking suddenly, interrupted by the soft beeping noise from far across the room,...the elevator chime, signaling that someone had arrived on the main floor.  
He spun around and looked across towards the elevator platform, but no one was aboard it. ._..that's odd ...a malfunction?...glitch?...maybe a gridbug worked it's way here?..._

It was then that he noticed three small objects laying aboard the platform's floor. He squinted his eyes, not quite believing that what he thought he was seeing was actually what he was seeing. He sighed, then walked over to the elevator, and as he got closer to it, his steps began to slow, his brow furrowing into a frown as he peered at the elevator platform. The frown turned to a very confused look and he stopped, then took several small tentative steps towards it, then stopped again, finally crouching down to stare very intensely at something which Clu and Tron couldn't see from their angle.

Then Kevin's strangely calm tone of voice beckoned them closer.

_"Clu?...Tron?...come here,...please,..."_

They both started walking quickly towards the far end of the room to meet him at the platform, and Kevin stood up, turning to them with a completely-baffled look on his face.  
They could now see what he'd been staring at...three light-batons, laying neatly next to each other on the platform.


	17. Chapter 17

Kevin, Clu and Tron stood frozen with disbelief, staring at the three light-batons which lay on the elevator platform before them. For a few nano-cycles, no one said a word or moved.

Kevin closed his eyes, as his mind worked itself through to the only logical conclusion,...and he finally lost his cool.

"_...Fffff- fff- CRAP!..."_

He whirled around, clenching his jaw and barely managing to contain the stream of definitely un-Zenlike expletives which so desperately wanted to burst forth from him all at once. In only a few huge loping strides he was all the way across the foyer, furiously punching in a code at the small keypad in the wall. Immediately the wall panel next to him rolled upward, exposing a large curved array of monitor screens, along with a console and keyboard. Fingers flying over the keys, he typed a series of commands and a pleasant digital voice sounded from the console speakers... _"Lock-down, engaged...sensors, active"._

The monitors sprang to life in panoramic color, showing every single possible digitized view of the exterior of his compound, live and in real time, each view in meticulous high-resolution detail...skies, clouds, even the intermittent flashes of lightning were rendered with absolute clarity.

Tron and Clu wandered over slowly to stand beside him, watching him curiously, but Kevin was oblivious, instead fixated on the screens, staring intensely, eyes moving rapidly from one to the other, scouring each for signs of movement or presence but in every single view, there wasn't even the tiniest hint of either. Then shaking his head, he typed another command and the displays changed to include wire-frame overlays with time-lapse tracking and highlighted motion detection. He stared and stared. Still nothing.

He zoomed in close on both the interior tunnel and the access road views, fingers hurriedly typing as the two screens flickered and then began to display the accelerated time-lapse playback in reverse...the imagery went scrolling quickly back through the past thirty nanocycles,...nothing...sixty,...ninety,...nothing...one-hundred-twenty...two-hundred...nothing...

Kevin's voice was a low frustrated growl through a clenched jaw, _"Come onnnn,...come ON, man,...you gotta' be KIDDIN'-ME?..."_

Tron and Clu watched intensely, but neither one said a word.  
Kevin tapped insistently on the zoom key, _"...something, ...something,...anything,..." _  
He sighed, and kept watching the accelerated replay all the way back through basically what would have been their entire conversation before the elevator had chimed.  
Nothing.

Finally he just nodded, stood staring at the screens, and muttered, _"Yeah. That's what I thought - digitized. There wasn't anyone here."_

Then both his hands flew up, then he let them fall to slap against his sides. _"MAN!...this-...this just-..."_ he stopped, turned around, then looked back and forth between Clu and Tron with an exasperated look, shaking his head.

"_...Isn't this great?..."_

Clu and Tron stared at him, each with expressions somewhere between baffled confusion and alarm. Kevin exhaled an irritated sigh, turned, and pointed across at the elevator platform.

"_The Grid finally has delivery service now - all the way out here!..."_ he shook his head again, his voice lowering to just a confounded muttering, _"...I leave it - it comes and finds me."_

Clu's brow furrowed, _"How?"_

Kevin shot a glance back at the keyboard, still shaking his head. _"Kinda' like to know that, myself..."_

He turned back to the keyboard, typed a command, then slammed the 'enter' key with an angry sigh. The pleasant digital voice sounded again from the console speakers... _"Lock-down, disengaged...sensors, inactive". _Then he walked slowly over to the elevator platform and stood there looking at the batons on the floor.

"_Clu,...looks like you got your wish. We're headin' to the Games."_

He sighed, then turned and walked back across the main room. Tron looked confused. He took a few tentative steps, and then called after Kevin, _"...where are you going?"_

Kevin called back without turning around, _"Well,... I gotta' put some shoes on, at least,..."_

* * *

Tron wandered through from the main room, and stood in the hallway, watching as Kevin slowly fastened his boots. He seemed a great deal more calm at least, and he'd changed back into his riding gear, which meant of course that he and Clu would look like twins again.

Kevin slipped on the jacket, hesitating when the cuff hit the beaded bracelet on his wrist. He started to unwind the beads, then stopped and rewound them, muttering to himself.

_"Nope,...I'm keepin' these on. I'm gonna need 'em."_

Then he stepped over to the dressing area, reaching to the closet shelf where a lone pair of black riding gloves lay inside a small transparent rectangular box. He grabbed them and put them on with a sigh.

_"Been a long time since I wore these..."_

Tron tilted his head slightly. _"I'm curious...why do you not just digitize your clothing when you want to change it?"_

Kevin looked across to where several long white jackets hung on the racks alongside a few long black ones. Next to them there were rows of hanging pants in white, black, gray, a hooded robe, various sets of pajama gi's. Then he turned back to Tron, shook his head, frowned slightly, with a thoughtful expression.

_"I really don't know. I could,...sure,...but,...'guess I just need to feel like I have...some sense of...normalcy,...maybe..."_

They walked back through the short hallway and into the main room. Kevin glanced at the art on the walls, the glass-top table, and the book which lay on it, then he stopped halfway up the middle walkway, gesturing at the room and the objects all around.

_"..that's what all this is about,...really,...I guess,...normalcy..."_

He gave a wry smile, looking down at the recessed seating area, where several elegant glass bottles filled with different colors of simulated virtual liquid all sat atop a glass coffee-table. He'd digitized them because they reminded him of the ones he and Sam would fill with tap-water and food-coloring and then place along the sunny kitchen windowsill so many years – or so many cycles – ago.

Tron watched him for a moment and then spoke, a look of understanding in his eyes. _"...You make things more like how they are in your world...so you won't miss it as much."_

Kevin looked back at him, nodding, eyes squinting slightly in wistful acknowledgment, then finally answered with a soft smile, _"...Yeah."_

Taking a deep breath, he glanced over to where Clu was now crouched beside the elevator door examining the circuitry on one of the light-batons. After a brief pause, Kevin looked back at Tron, raised both brows, and nodded towards the elevator platform, with as much optimism as he could muster.

_"...the Grid awaits..." _


	18. Chapter 18

The light-crawler breezed along in a relatively smooth ride down treacherous paths which could only very loosely be called "roads". Craggy and uneven, the terrain of the Outlands would have long since easily felled any other vehicle, but the crawler handled it well, continuing intrepidly forward and blazing two ribbons of impeccable white light out behind it.

Kevin drove, and Clu and Tron shared the passenger seat, which thankfully was not quite as cramped as it had been during their previous trip to the safe-house compound.  
Before they'd all left the underground garage, Kevin had taken the time to alter the light-crawler's coding in a quick attempt to repair the derezzed hatch canopy window, and he'd lucked into finding a way to add a slight amount of height to its arch as well, so that two passengers could reasonably sit in the passenger seat with the hatch closed. He'd also tried to lengthen the cab itself, but found that without redesigning the entire vehicle, which they definitely didn't have time for, he would only be able to add about a foot of extra length. However, that seemed to suffice, for although Clu and Tron seemed somewhat awkward being in such close proximity to each other, at least there was room for them both to sit upright.

Needless to say, Kevin hadn't been thrilled when in the course of re-coding the crawler he'd discovered the tiny tracking subroutine port which was located under the dashboard, innocuously concealed as a very small flashing light. Even less thrilling was the fact that after re-coding the vehicle to eliminate the tracking port, it came back again, thus reinforcing his theory that whoever or whatever had taken hold of the Grid now was not only able to reach into the Outlands but also to respond to their every action, digitizing things remotely at will.

However, two could play that game.  
Because after all, Kevin Flynn created the Grid.  
And while he might not be able to see his opponent, he knew that outsmarting it would simply be a matter of getting it to flex it's muscles,...so that he could gauge it's strength, look for a vulnerability, and work from there. That he did, when the tracking port re-digitized itself ... he responded with a move of his own, digitizing a small but powerful magnet in keeping with Clu's magnet-to-disk idea, and then attaching the magnet to the dashboard where the port was located. While the magnet might not keep whatever was in control from wielding it's power via tracking transmissions, it would certainly botch whatever information the transmitter was sending.  
As defensive game moves go, that one wasn't bad at all. At least it would buy them some time, though time in the Grid moved impossibly fast. But if they could at least manage to keep in step with whatever had control of the Grid, they might just have a chance at defeating it. And the only way to keep in step, was to keep playing and keep getting it to reveal itself.  
Now as Kevin drove along the uncharted Outlands roads, he thought to himself, ..._your move, MCP...  
_

Soon they were nearing the edge of the Outlands, and he had a hunch their best bet was to park the light-crawler and make the rest of the trip on foot, at least to the road which spanned the perimeter of Tron city. Once there, then they could always use the batons to switch to light cycles, and admittedly, Kevin really did have a slight hankering to do just that.

Clu and Tron had been very quiet for most of the ride. Not so unusual for Tron, at least not as of late, but rather amazing for Clu, and Kevin sure wasn't complaining. He slowed the vehicle as they approached a series of angular structures which jutted out from the terrain up ahead to the left, and as soon as the crawler decreased it's speed, Clu and Tron looked over at him.

_"There's a very small null sector up ahead ... pretty much like a black hole..."_ Kevin explained, veering the crawler slowly off the road and down into a dark recessed area, _"...meaning, anything which goes in here might as well not exist - at least, in the eyes of whoever might be looking for it from the road, that is."_

He finally slowed the crawler to a stop, powering down the engine in the what appeared to be a nearly pitch-black cave, then shrugged and grinned at Clu and Tron, _"...as parking spots go,...this one's prime. Thank you, parking goddess..."_

Even in the dim glow from their light-suits, Kevin could see Clu and Tron staring at him quizzically.

_"Never mind..."_ he sighed.

After debarking the crawler, they slowly made their way back out to where there was at least somewhat more light. Clu suddenly spoke as they walked along.

_"If it's as though nothing exists there, then how will we find the light-crawler?..."_

Kevin looked over at Clu and was about to answer when he suddenly noticed that Clu had been carrying the bit model in his gloved hand this whole time, and apparently had now decided to place it in his jacket pocket for safekeeping. Kevin watched him tuck the bit into the depths of the pocket, then he gave a slight grin, nodding towards the pocket.

_"Good move. Wouldn't wanna' drop that out here...with so little light, it'd be tough to find it on the ground..."_

Nodding back towards the direction from whence they'd just walked, Kevin continued, addressing Clu's query, _"...yeah,...finding the crawler won't exactly be a snap, ...but,...there's one good thing about having lived out here in the Outlands for this long...kinda' start to get to know the landmarks, you know?..."_

Clu nodded as though he agreed, though the look on his face was somewhat skeptical.

Kevin's continued reply reassured him, _"Don't worry, man,...I can find where we parked it...just by looking at the terrain."_

They continued carefully on foot, climbing over hills and wandering through the valleys of winding, uneven terrain. Kevin led them along towards the glow of Tron city which beckoned up ahead over the hilltops. After a while, Kevin leaned forward a bit as he walked, looking past Clu to Tron, who'd been walking silently next to Clu the entire time since they'd left the vehicle.

_"You ok buddy? ... mighty quiet over there."_

Tron nodded, his eyes focused on taking careful steps along the rough ground, _"Oh, yes...I am well. I've just been thinking, that's all."_

Kevin's brows raised in mild curiosity, though his voice was it's usual casual drawl, _"...yeah?...what about?..."_

Tron looked at him, pausing and tilting his head slightly, as though he hadn't expected to be asked that question.

_"About,...your normalcy."_ he replied.

This time it was Kevin who tilted his head slightly, and he frowned and grinned at the same time. Not too many people had ever described him as having 'normalcy', that was for sure.  
He couldn't help but to chuckle. _"My...' normalcy'?..."_

Tron nodded, smiling somewhat. _"Yes. You spoke of the things you have created in your home,...things from the User-world, and of how they give you a sense of normalcy. As does your choice to place each piece of your clothing onto yourself, as you did in the User world, instead of simply digitizing it into existence on your frame as we programs would."_

Kevin's eyebrows raised and he nodded, realizing what Tron meant, even if he wasn't quite sure why his friend had been still thinking of that all this time.

_"Ohh. Okay. Yeah,...well,...it-...it definitely does help do that..."_

Tron continued, raising an eyebrow in speculation, _"But...I believe it does more than that, Kevin Fl-"_ he paused, correcting himself, _"...Kevin."_

Kevin glanced back at him, his interest piqued even more._ "...Yeah?..."_

Tron nodded. _"I believe that it has been your way of refusing to give up on the thought that you might be able to return to your world someday, even though you have not known how."_

Kevin opened his mouth to speak but then paused, eyes narrowing to a curious stare, not quite following where Tron was going with this.

_"...How-...how do you figure that?..."_

Tron looked over at him as they walked along, and explained matter-of-factly, _" ...all of this time, you have remained loyal your vision...to the way things were – or are - in your User-world, loyal to the customs and things which, as you say, give you a sense of normalcy. Instead of allowing yourself to become steadily more and more like a program, because that would be like giving up hope."  
_

At those words, Kevin suddenly stopped walking, and so Clu and Tron stopped too.

Kevin looked at Tron very intently, considering what he'd just heard him say.

All this time, he'd never once thought of it like this...all the things he'd done...recreating a virtual User world for himself here in the Grid, holding on to it, cycle after cycle after cycle.  
Nostalgic? Yes. Sentimental? Yes. Curing his own boredom while in captivity? Absolutely.  
But,...a way of holding onto the hope of ever returning to his world?...No.  
He'd always thought of it as his way of giving up hope, of accepting his circumstances and admitting defeat to them, not as a way of refusing to.  
Until his son had shown up, he'd thought he'd just become content to meditate his days away, growing old in the confines of his safe-house, basically acquiescing to living life as a castaway on a desert island. And despite the serenity which his meditation offered, a big part of him had still remained really, really disappointed in himself for that acquiescence,...for a long, long time.

He just stood speechless now, in the wake of that realization, staring at Tron, who simply nodded, gesturing at the undeveloped wild terrain around them as he continued speaking.

_"...I have watched you as we have walked here...you know how to survive and to navigate, to find your way around, even out here, whereas I myself could not have. This only makes it more clear to me...that you would have found a way to escape a captive existence and to return to your own world, if you only could have. But even for as long as you have stayed here, you have always remembered who you are."  
_

Kevin just continued to stare at Tron, shaking his head slowly as a smile crept onto his features.

_"Tron,...man,...that's-...that's-...I don't know what to say,...I really never...once... looked at it that way...and...I -"_

Kevin paused and just looked at his friend, nodding slowly, profound gratitude in his eyes. It was a gratitude on so many levels, most of which he didn't know how to quite express, so he just simply said, _"...thank you, man,... for that, ... thank you."_

His voice resonated with hints of the same emotion which was now trying to well up as moisture in his eyes, and so he looked down with a smile, feeling a bit awkward. Then he slowly stepped forward and resumed walking again. So did Clu. And so did Tron, who answered simply, _"You are welcome,...Kevin."_

* * *

It wasn't much longer before the three of them finally reached the top of the hillside, and stood overlooking the perimeter of the city. Only a few steps and a short skip down the small hillside were between them and the road, and then miles of road between there and the Game Arena.  
Kevin looked out at the long virtual labyrinth which led into the city and disappeared over the horizon.  
They could walk it, sure, ... but it would take half a millicycle most likely, and who knew what bizarre things they might have to contend with along the way.  
They had light-batons, sure, ... but the batons came from whatever had digitized them into his elevator, and who knew what bizarre strings might be attached.

But the longer Kevin stood there, the more he couldn't help thinking back to the last time he'd ever ridden a light-cycle, so very long ago...it was with Clu and Tron, in fact,...and here they all were again, full circle,...after so very many cycles and so very much weirdness in between.

After a moment, he reached for the baton in his jacket pocket, then looked at Clu and Tron, giving a shrug as a slow mischievous grin crept onto his face. Then he watched as they each slowly got that same grin, and reached to retrieve the batons they carried.  
From there, it was pretty simple.

Kevin went first, expanding the baton, pressing the button, running a couple of steps forward and then just leaping right off the top of the hill...defying gravity,...defying every law of physics that the User-world ever knew,...defying time itself,...as the light-cycle formed around him and became one with him. The exhilarated look of joy on his face while arcing slowly through the air on the cycle was matched only by the way he laughed and yelled, _"YEAH!..."_ with absolute boyish glee as its wheels made contact with the road and zoomed forward.

Clu and Tron were right behind him, and it didn't take them long to catch up. Then it was the three of them, racing side by side, laughing, their light-cycles threading the road with brilliant aqua-blue ribbons of moving light which streamed behind them in three magnificent trails.


	19. Chapter 19

The three light-cycles darted swiftly in between slow-moving vehicles, trying to get past the heavily-congested traffic at the Game Arena exit. In each of the right three lanes, a solid line of light-cycles, crawlers, buggies and trams all idled at a standstill...there were hundreds of them stretched back for more than a mile along the freeway, all waiting to gain access to the arena parking facility, and the entire arena plaza itself was teeming with masses of programs on foot all converging towards the main entrance.

Clu stared as they passed the scene, taken aback at the staggering amounts of traffic. Having never spent much time outside the arena, he'd never really realized this many programs were so interested in seeing the games, and he mused to himself. Then for a brief nano he felt a strange sense of longing, recalling what it had been like to stand at his observation deck...hearing the echoed thronging from the multitudinous crowds, feeling the energy of the entire arena chanting in unison for their champion, his most prized warrior Rinzler. He glanced over at Tron, wondering if he too remembered, but Tron's attention was focused straight ahead, tracking on Kevin's light-cycle as he led the three of them into the fast lane and away from the crowded mess. Trying his best to snap himself out of the memory, Clu veered his bike in behind Tron's.

The three of them finally made it to the fast lane, accelerating and following the bend in the freeway which carried them around the enormous arena. Then Kevin dropped back from the lead until his cycle was even with Clu's, quickly glancing over at Clu and gesturing for him to pass, at the same time yelling loudly enough to be heard over the high-pitched whir of the cycles' engines.

_"Clu!...I don't know where we're goin', man,...you grab the lead!"  
_

Clu nodded vigorously, yelling back, _"Stay with me!...We'll take...a shortcut!"_

Catching a glimpse of Clu's mischievous smirk through the lighted face-shield, Kevin knew this meant the route was about to get a whole lot more interesting. Sure enough, Clu quickly accelerated, veering ahead into the lead, blazing down the fast lane and glancing back every so often to make sure Tron and Kevin were still behind him. Once they were well past the arena sector traffic, they exited the freeway, whereupon Clu took them on a roundabout journey of turns through several back-streets, then led them through a series of alleys, finally peeling to a stop in one of them with a perfectly-executed skid, whipping the light-cycle's rear tire around nearly ninety degrees as a wide ribbon of blue light followed it.

Kevin wasn't quite prepared for Clu's sudden stunt, and had to brake hard into a skid himself in order to stop in time to avoid de-rezzing his light-cycle by way of a collision with Clu's. He gave Clu a rather peeved smirk which verged on the paternal, just as Tron rolled to a graceful stop behind them.

Deactivating his light-cycle and helmet, Kevin looked around the deserted alley then up at the enormously tall and nondescript buildings on either side. Nothing about it was familiar.

_"Man, where the hell are we?..."  
_

Tucking the baton back into his jacket, Clu gave him a slight grin. _ "I told you I was taking us on a shortcut..." _Then he nodded towards the tall building to their left. "_...follow me." _

Kevin and Tron followed as Clu led them through the lobby of the building and to an elevator. A few nano-cycles later they stepped out into the basement sub-level, a darkened, shabby place which looked like a scrap-yard for all sorts of defunct office machinery, discarded furniture and old vending machines. Against the far wall stood three tall, old, junked video-game machines, a sight which immediately caught Kevin's curious eye.

Removing the disk from his back, Clu strode straight over to the machine in the middle and crashed his disk into it, de-rezzing it into a shower of dissipating pixels. Kevin stood with his mouth agape...behind where the machine had been, there was now a large opening in the wall big enough for them to step through. Clu simply grinned, motioning for Tron and Kevin to follow, then he turned, ducked his head, and stepped inside the opening.

Kevin and Tron followed, stepping inside the opening and then standing up again, looking around. They were in some sort of a very dim tunnel, and Clu stood punching a code into a small panel on the wall. Kevin glanced at the opening just in time to watch as the same video-game Clu had just obliterated began to rezz itself into existence again on the other side of the wall, once more completely obscuring the opening they'd just crawled through. The similarity of this to his "secret passageway" at the lab beneath Flynn's Arcade was just too striking, but before Kevin could comment on that, Clu had stepped forward into the tunnel, Tron following close behind, and so Kevin stepped in behind them.

After several turns, the tunnel opened into a taller doorway, beyond which was a more brightly-lit corridor. Kevin looked around at the semi-transparent walls which seemed to glow from within, lit at the baseboards by a wafer-thin line of bluish light. Behind the semi-transparent walls there seemed to be nothing but a filmy nondescript darkness. The surfaces of the walls themselves were etched from floor-to-ceiling with a conglomerate montage of designs - odd pixelated shapes, circuitry, algorithms and fragments of code - all scattered randomly like graffiti.

On and on they walked, through what seemed to be an endless eerie maze of the same illuminated semi-transparent walls. Several times they turned corners, and yet the hallway seemed to just go on and on. This was unlike anything Kevin had ever seen in the Grid anywhere.  
..._Where the hell are we?..._he thought.

Without turning around, Clu gestured suddenly at the ceiling and spoke, as though he'd just read Kevin's mind.

"_Directly above us is the armory, where programs are prepared for the games...and directly above that, is the game arena."_

"_Oh." _Kevin nodded, surprised. The arena had certainly changed since he'd last been in it.

"..._Man,...never knew any of this was here before..."_

Clu glanced back over his shoulder briefly. _"You wouldn't have. Because it wasn't. I built it. It's a sub-network..."_

Kevin nodded, eyes widening. _"Why?... What for?..." _

Clu answered vaguely as they turned another corner, _"It has it's... uses. Security, mostly,...but also -" _

Just then Clu abruptly stopped mid-sentence, slowing his pace suddenly. Up ahead at the end of the hallway was a black-chromed wall with lines of white and gold circuitry which snaked along it in an angular fashion from floor to ceiling. Clu stopped and turned to Kevin and Tron, a distracted look of concern on his face.

"_However,...there's supposed to be a guard at this entrance,...and,...there isn't."_

Clu's expression grew more serious, eyes darkening as he glanced down at the floor in thought. Then he looked back up at his Creator with an expression Kevin couldn't quite read.

"_...I'm about to suggest something - something you aren't going to like..."_

Kevin tried not to frown as he braced himself for whatever Clu might be about to say. If the former rogue program was already prefacing by saying his Creator wasn't going to like his forthcoming suggestion, Kevin figured that couldn't be a good sign. Clu looked first at him, then at Tron, then back and forth between the two of them as he spoke.

"_I'm not sure what we're going to find on the other side of this door. I once knew,...but,..."_ Clu's voice trailed off, then he turned to Kevin, looking him right in the eyes.

"_I'm going to ask you to trust me,..." _Clu's eyes narrowed as he watched Kevin raise a speculative eyebrow, and then he continued, _"...I'm going to ask you to allow me to use my administrative privileges,...from this point on,...for as long as we're here,...at least until we know more about what we're dealing with."_

Kevin just looked at him, and didn't answer right away.  
He knew what the program was now asking of him...he was asking him for permission to be CLU 2.0 again.

Kevin stood silent for several nanos, looking back into Clu's eyes, weighing the possible outcomes and drawbacks of agreeing to this. It didn't take him long to reach the conclusion that this might be the only option they'd have to not only gain access, but to also gain information without being apprehended, or worse. The down-side being that there was no way to predict whether it would end up being the wrong choice, and for a variety of different reasons. At this point, the choice seemed clear...Kevin was simply going to have to do exactly as Clu had asked...to trust him...and to trust the process...and if this wasn't the truest possible example of 'a leap of faith', he sure didn't know what was.

His reply was given in one word, with a slight and almost imperceptible nod. _"...alright."_

Clu accepted the reply the same way, with a slight and almost imperceptible nod, but the look in his eyes told Kevin that it wasn't a gift he took lightly, which was a good sign. And then Clu reached to the disk on his back, retrieving it. He brought it to rest in front of him and pressed a sequence on the buttons, then returned it to its hub on his back. There was a brief shimmering as pixels rapidly reorganized themselves from his neck down to his boots, and then he stood in the glow of amber light from the edges of the disk, adorned in the ominously familiar body armor and full-length cassock cloak, alight with brilliant yellow circuitry.

He turned towards Tron. Tron couldn't help it - he took a step backward. His face remained stoic but his eyes were pensive as he stared at Clu, an overwhelmingly familiar dread slowly beginning to creep over him. But Clu shook his head slightly, answering Tron's uneasy gaze with a slight reassuring dip of his chin as he looked into his eyes.

"_You are Tron. You will never be Rinzler again."_

Tron stared back at him, nodding and relaxing somewhat. Clu raised his hand slowly, gracefully, to gesture toward Tron's shoulder, then halted it mid-air and spoke. _"May I?..."_

Tron hesitated, and then nodded again, slowly turning to allow Clu to access his disk. Clu removed it, pressed a sequence of codes into the disk, then returned it to Tron's back, after which Tron turned back around, his pixels beginning to rearrange themselves until he stood in full body armor lit with azure blue circuitry, topped with a long sleeved cloak which extended regally to the floor. Then to his surprise, he watched as a tall blue-trimmed light-staff rezzed itself into existence in his gloved grasp. He looked at his armored suit, then back at Clu, watching as the corners of his mouth curled upward into the hint of grin. Then Clu nodded, raising an eyebrow.

"_Acceptable?..."_

And Tron nodded once more in reply, relief continuing to wash over his features. He didn't smile, but his eyes softened.

Then Clu turned to Kevin. _"Your turn."_

Kevin gave a sigh, cocking his head to one side, and frowned. _"Yep."_ But then he just stood there, and so Clu reached for his disk, but Kevin raised both his hands slightly.

_"I got it, man, I got it...I'm just trying to make up my mind,..." _

And then Kevin reached to his own disk, retrieving it, programming the requisite codes, and returning it to his back. A few shimmering pixels later, he stood in body armor lined with angular red-circuitry, and a matching red-trimmed long-sleeved hooded cloak. The staff in his hand looked similar to Tron's, except that it was tipped with red light.

Clu quirked his head curiously to the side. Kevin read his surprised expression.

_"Hey,...just wanna cover all the bases, man,...in case we gotta' get all- I dunno,'... bad-ass...on somebody,...or somethin'..."_ he paused, reaching out an arm to survey his new red circuitry, _"...so,..whaddya' think?.."_

Clu tilted his head in the other direction. _"It's..."_ he paused, thinking, then gave an affable smirk with raised brows, _"...bad-ass." _Then he gave a slight nod, pleased with his usage of the epigram.

Kevin chuckled. Clearly this was going to be one of Clu's new favorite words.

Tron's face was thoughtful for a moment, then he looked at Clu and voiced a query, _"...helmets?..."_

Clu gave a definitive nod, _"...essential." _

Walking around to stand behind Tron, Clu reached for the disk, pressed the buttons, and a sleek black helmet rezzed itself onto Tron's head, the smoke-colored faceplate concealing his features and adding an authoritative mystique to his ensemble.

Then Clu looked at Kevin questioningly, reaching an arm out towards his back. Kevin gave a compliant shrug. "_Yeah,...go ahead." _

At the press of the button on his disk, Kevin's helmet rezzed, identical to Tron's in color and design.

Clu walked back around to stand in front of them, looking them each over. Then he cast his gaze down at his own attire once more, raising his gloved hands slightly to regard with a lingering glance the streaks of fiery yellow which continued from his arms all the way down each index finger...before finally looking up again and giving the final nod of approval. Any trepidation he might have previously felt now seemed to have completely dissipated, as a confident smirk found its way to the corners of his mouth and his eyes darkened, brows raising slightly in contrast to form a coolly-formidable arch.

"_...Time to go..."_ He said with the familiar impeccably-smooth chilling drawl.

* * *

Mere nanoseconds later, the elevator panel chimed with a soft digital tone, signaling the car's arrival to the balcony mezzanine from the armory and arena levels below. The tall, imposing doors slid smoothly open, their simulated brushed-metal finish and gold trim reflecting the ambient lighting in slow fluid glints.

Three cloaked figures stepped forth from the elevator, their presence instantly washing the anteroom with a ripple of silence as sentries all around the room turned and snapped to attention. As if on cue, Jarvis rushed over to them urgently, stopping in front of Clu to execute a slow bow of deference, his voice as ingratiating as ever.

"_Your Excellency...we have missed you..."_


	20. Chapter 20

Los Angeles, CA

By this time of night, especially on a Friday, usually very few windows of the ENCOM tower were illuminated. Tonight Alan Bradley's office window was one of them.

He sat at his desk staring at the latest OS12 press release, a complete web of purposefully-crafted disinformation which had already been leaked to the major agencies courtesy of Edward Dillinger Jr. and his PR team. Alan had been sitting there for almost an hour trying to think of just how ENCOM was going to make it not seem as though complete idiots were in charge of the largest software company in the world once all the shareholders got wind of this. It was well known just how much time and money the company had sunk into the development of OS12, only to have it leaked out onto the web for free? Didn't make a bit of good sense, at least not financially, even if it did somehow turn into Ed Jr's hoped-for "unprecedented PR move to win over the freeware masses".

He sighed, grumbling to himself. ...w_hy not just tell them the truth, Ed Jr?... _But that point of course was moot, because the truth wouldn't look any better on the company, and it certainly wouldn't make Ed Jr. look very good...security vulnerability issues at ENCOM notwithstanding, an old unresolved Dillinger/Flynn vendetta had led to this leak. And the fact that the sole heir to the company was the reason for the breach to begin with didn't exactly help matters either.

Deep down, Alan completely understood the reasons why Sam Flynn had done what he did. He couldn't blame the boy for acting out his displaced rage and grief over his father's disappearance, or for being motivated to such rebellious stunts by his feelings of inadequacy at trying to follow in Kevin Flynn's footsteps. And he certainly couldn't blame him for trying to put Ed Jr. on the hot seat - that sort of thing seemed to run in the Flynn genes, at least where the Dillinger legacy of corruption was concerned. Nevertheless, dealing with the repercussions of this latest stunt was still going to mean Alan and the company would have to eat a lot of crow, take a lot of ribbing, and take a huge financial loss too. In the long run things would be fine, but in the meantime, someone was going to have to step up and smooth things over. And of course it was going to have to be Alan.  
It had always been Alan. First because of the idealistic escapades of Kevin Flynn, and now because of those of his son.

He took off his glasses, rubbing tired eyes, and sat back in his chair with a sigh. He glanced at the clock on the desk..._ 11:11 pm_... he should really just go home and get some rest. This could wait until Monday, or at least until tomorrow if he really wanted to obsess over it. He stood, tossing the press release back into the in-box, and was about to start for the door when a very familiar beeping broke the silence in his quiet office. The pager. He already knew what number would be displayed on it. He sighed. ..._ again?...seriously?...this really must be somebody's new favorite prank..._

He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out the old pager. Sure enough, it was the old number of Flynn's Arcade, paging him yet again. The number that had been disconnected for twenty years. The number that had been connected to the man who was the only reason he still kept this old pager in service after twenty years. But Sam had already gone there to the arcade after the first page from the number last week - they both had gone there, several times since, what with Sam's sudden decision to renovate the place - and Kevin Flynn most assuredly was not there at the arcade.  
Or if he was, he was a ghost. Period.

And yet,... Alan sighed, and sat back down at the desk, not believing what he was about to do. But it wasn't like he hadn't already done it before, every so often, for years. He reached for his cell phone, but then remembered he'd left it in the car. Then he sat there telling himself this was just silly.  
And yet, he still found himself picking up the receiver of the phone on his desk, and dialing the old number to Flynn's Arcade.

It rang twice.  
Then, just as he'd known it would be, the call was transferred to a recording..._  
...we're sorry,...you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service...please check the number and try your call again..._

He gave a wry smile, and slowly hung up the phone.  
Then, just as he'd done so many times before, he grumbled to himself, wondering why the phone company didn't just finally go ahead and reassign the number to someone else. It had been twenty damned years, and with all the shortages of phone numbers now in the 310 area code, it would make sense. And, it would save him from ever having to exercise such futility again, as well as from having to feel the same old familiar twinge of sadness each time he got the recording.  
Or least, it would after the first time someone else ever answered the number and said, _'sorry, wrong number'_...or, well, maybe after the first couple of times.

He sighed, and stood up, pocketing the pager. Then he slowly walked to the door, flipped off the light, and left.

* * *

He wasn't really sure what had possessed him to drive by Flynn's Arcade on the way home...on the way to his home, which was in the opposite direction from the arcade, and therefore meant the 'going to' his home or the 'coming from' it in no way involved 'driving by' the arcade, or even driving by anywhere close to it, no matter which route one took.

And yet, there he was, driving right by it. The place was dark and locked up as usual._  
_

_ ...alright, this is silly. I'm turning around at the corner and getting back on the freeway..._

And yet, he turned around at the corner, then drove up in front of the arcade, pulled the car to a stop, and parked.

_...but I'm not going to go in..._

And yet, a minute later he was jiggling the key in the old lock, trying to get it to open.  
Finally it unlocked, and he walked in, closing the door behind him. He fumbled for the light switch, found it, turned it on, took two steps into the arcade, and then thought to turn around and lock the door.

_...but I'm not staying...just locking this for a minute,...while I'm standing here...this is after all not the best neighborhood..._

Then he stood looking around at the place again in the light. So much work to be done. He admired Sam's decision to renovate, even if he was still really surprised by it. What had prompted the decision, he wasn't sure, but for some reason last week Sam had turned over a new leaf where both his father and ENCOM were concerned.

He looked around the room at the dust-covers, and then he looked right straight down the center aisle, to the far wall.  
There, of course, was the Tron game.  
And beyond that, of course, the computer lab.

_...no, I'm not doing this...not again...this is silly...I'm turning around and leaving...  
...besides,..what if Sam were to drive by and see the lights on?...  
...he doesn't even know about the computer lab yet...  
...no, I'm turning around and going home..._

And yet, he walked slowly over to the Tron game, and stood staring at the screen.  
He could still hear Kevin's voice in his mind, the way he'd described it, the whole fantastic unbelievable thing of it, of what had happened. What he wouldn't give to hear his old friend's voice right now.  
Just then, Sam's words echoed in his mind ... _Alan, you're acting like I'm going to find him sittin' at work, just, 'Hey, kiddo, lost track of time'..._  
And his own voice ... _'Wouldn't that be something'..._  
But of course that wasn't going to happen.  
He sighed.  
_...I should just turn around and go home right now...and that's just what I'm going to do..._

And yet, instead he found himself reaching to the back of the game machine, pulling it away from the wall.

Just standing at the doorway of the lab again brought back a flood of memories. All the times they'd bring back take-out food, Kevin jumping up in between every few bites of food to scrawl some idea on the whiteboard, or to grab some of his notes from the myriad of papers scattered around on the shelves. All the times he'd stood there by the doorway, leaning against the door frame and listening to Kevin go on and on about "the grid" while he sat typing at that keyboard.

Then he noticed the keyboard.

He looked again, then walked over to it to get a closer look. Sure enough, although there were layers of dust everywhere else in the room, the dust had been wiped from the keyboard, as well as from the front of the old computer, and from parts of the desk too. It looked like someone had just swept a hand across them.

_...has Sam been here?...surely not...but,..._

He stood there by the desk, ran a hand across the back of the chair, looked around the room.  
Nothing else had been dusted, nothing out of place. Just the keyboard, and the front of the old computer.

Something about this didn't seem right. Surely Sam would have said something if he'd been down here and seen the lab. He wouldn't have kept that from him. Which was why something about this didn't seem right.  
_...which is another reason why I should just turn around and go home right now...and that's just what I'm going to do...  
_

And yet, he found himself pulling back the chair, and sitting down at the desk.


	21. Chapter 21

Clu watched with a facade of calm detachment, as his aide genuflected and then stood up again. Then Jarvis continued to stand there with an expectant look on his face. Clu's eyes narrowed to study his features and his expression, which in turn seemed to foster an uneasiness in the aide, and he finally began to speak, though somewhat hesitantly.

_"...In your absence...I was...uncertain...as to what to do-"_

Clu interrupted him abruptly, mustering a slight pleasant smile but his eyes were as eerily cold and calm as his voice.

_"I'll be happy to clear that up for you. Dismiss yourself from the room – **now**."_

He nodded toward the sentries, _"...and take them with you."_

Behind the clear visor, Jarvis' brow flickered very slightly, showing a hint of confusion which he dared not voice. He simply nodded, genuflected again, turned to look at the sentries, then quickly walked across the mezzanine anteroom and into to the arched open doorway, disappearing down the corridor as the sentries followed close behind. Clu watched them depart, and then turned to Kevin and Tron, his face slowly shedding the cold indifferent veneer in favor of a slightly distracted frown.

Kevin pointed to his helmet, _"Okay if I take this off now?..."_

Clu nodded, then turned back towards the panoramic observation window which spanned the entire length of the room, his gaze traveling across the massive arena already filled with thousands of programs. The games would begin soon, and already he could feel the energy from the fevered crowd building, seeping into his circuitry as it always did. But this time it only filled him with a sickly dread, because he was already well aware that he wasn't in control of any of this. Not anymore.

Kevin de-rezzed the helmet, and then looked over at Clu. _"What was that all about?..."_ he asked, hiking a thumb back toward where Jarvis had gone.

Clu turned to him, and raised an eyebrow, still frowning. _"He isn't supposed to be here."_

Kevin nodded, seeming mildly confused, and Tron spoke from behind his helmet, _"But,...Jarvis is always here..."_

Kevin looked at Tron, interrupting in a half-whisper, _"Who's Jarvis?..."_

Tron looked over at him, answering quickly, _"Jarvis is his assistant."_

Kevin nodded again, still somewhat confused. Clu just stared intensely in the direction where Jarvis had gone, and spoke.

_"No, … Jarvis **WAS** my assistant. I de-rezzed him aboard my ship, approximately 6 millicycles ago."_

Then he looked back at Tron and Kevin, raising an eyebrow again. _"...So you can understand why I say he isn't supposed to be here."_

Kevin and Clu looked at each other warily. But neither one spoke right away. Kevin was trying to work his mind around what this newest development might mean, and was just about to ask a question when Clu suddenly glanced past him, his brow furrowing with a mixture of alarm and irritation as he demanded tersely, _"WHAT IS IT?"_

Kevin turned to see Jarvis rushing up to Clu. Almost as an afterthought, the aide then remembered to stop and bow. _"Your excellency,..."_

Jarvis paused, suddenly glancing at Kevin, and did a double-take when he got a full look at his face. He blinked, staring at Kevin, then back at Clu, then back at Kevin, and then he slowly bowed again, still staring up at Kevin, eyes wide as saucers. _"Your,...excellency?..."_

Clu could not help rolling his eyes. This was not unfolding as he'd planned. His impatience flared.

_"JARVIS!...WHAT..!"_

Finally tearing his attention away from Kevin, the addled assistant looked to Clu again, and spoke.

_"Sir,...I have some news,...I thought it imperative to tell you right away..."_

And yet Jarvis did not tell him.  
He just stood there staring back and forth from Kevin to Clu.  
Clu's eyes narrowed to a piercing glare, and he stepped closer to Jarvis, his voice taking on a dangerous edge beneath the icy drawl.

_"What,...Is,...Your,...**NEWS**?"_

Jarvis flinched, startled when Clu raised his voice, and then he blurted out, _"Rinzler has returned!..."_

Clu's eyes widened, and he froze in place for a moment. He exhaled, trying his best to remain calm, then tilted his chin, narrowed his eyes, and finally replied, _"...Rinzler?..."_

Jarvis nodded, brows raising excitedly and mouth curling into a hopeful smile.

_"Yes, Your Excellency,...he has returned!...they are preparing him with a suit in the armory now!...he will be ready for the games-"_

_"**NO!..."**_

Clu cut him off, silencing him by turning and walking away a few paces, taking that opportunity to think frantically while his back was to Jarvis. Then he turned around to face his aide again, this time with a cool detached expression on his face. He glanced at Kevin who stood behind Jarvis, eyes wide with shock and confusion, and he could only imagine what Tron's face looked like under the helmet right now. Somehow Tron was managing to stand motionless and silent, and he did not see how.

Clu stepped to stand right in front of Jarvis. _"No. Bring him to me - first. I'd like you to bring him to me,... right now,... in fact. I don't really care if they've finished suiting him up or not."_

Still staring at Jarvis who had not moved, Clu tipped his head slightly, in a miffed gesture which clearly meant, _"Go!"_ Jarvis' smile faded, and he nodded. Without another word he turned, and practically ran out of the anteroom.

Clu's eyes grew more intense as he watched Jarvis go, then he stared at Kevin, baffled. Kevin stared back at Clu, just as baffled. Tron yanked the disk off of his own back, de-rezzed his helmet, and stared at both of them, completely confused. Finally Kevin sighed, throwing his hands in the air and turning around, then he turned right back around and put them on his hips.

_"This-...This!-"_ Kevin paused, exhaling in frustration, then simply nodded with a peeved expression, _"...Yeah, you know,...I was really hoping things were gonna' get even more WEIRD!..."_

Tron turned and started pacing, his face set with tension, confusion, uncertainty. Kevin sighed again, then looked at Clu, his voice more calm, but his brow still furrowed into a frown.

_"...and man,...what's with you and Jarvis?...you're kinda' starting to creep me out with that-...I don't know,...sadistic warlord thing. I didn't program you that way...and I kinda' thought the virus-...or whatever it was- the glitch,...was gone...so,..."_

Kevin's voice trailed off.  
Clu looked back at him. Somehow he was the calmest of the three of them, yet his face was still intense, because he was frustrated, and not just with the situation they were facing - he didn't much care for being reprimanded now, when he had been given prior permission to do this in the first place.  
He paused a moment more, and then spoke, his voice firm.

_"Kevin,...I asked you for full administrative privileges while we were here...and you said yes...I told you that you probably weren't going to like what you saw...but, that's why I asked you to trust me..and you said 'alright'. I have behaved this way towards my subordinates for a long time...they expect it from me. Be that right or wrong,...if I were to behave any differently right now, they would become suspicious. And right now that is the last thing we need, because we already do not know who to trust."_

Clu finished, giving him an intense and prideful look. Kevin's eyes widened. He didn't yell, but it took all of his Zen not to. Instead he gave an incredulous laugh.

_"...Suspicious?...th-...THEY would become suspicious?...Man!...don't look now, but... …you've-...you've got an assistant who's been... de-rezzed... for three day- ...for 6 millicycles,... and is running around bowing at us!...if that isn't suspicious, I don't know what is!..."_

Clu frowned at him. He didn't sulk, but that was only because suddenly the elevator chimed, which meant someone had arrived from the lower levels.  
They all three turned to see the pristine brushed-metal doors sliding open, and two sentries stepped out of the elevator car with a program standing captive in between them, their hands holding his arms as they ushered him into the anteroom. The sentries guided the program slowly over to Clu, and Jarvis followed behind them.

The program's light-suit was trimmed with the familiar orange markings, but the program appeared to be limping, and something about it's build didn't seem right to Clu...the right height, but slightly heavier-set. This didn't look like Rinzler to him. Suspicious? Definitely.  
Raising his chin he considered the program through narrowed eyes, looked him over once more head to toe, and then spoke, the beginnings of a calculating smirk on his lips. He looked at Kevin and Tron, then back at Jarvis.

_"Remove his helmet...I want to see his face."_

Jarvis stepped quickly forward to comply, nervously detaching the disk from the program's back and pressing the coding sequence on the buttons, then returning the disk.  
Slowly the helmet began to pixelate and dissolve into nothingness, and then they were looking at a very frightened and completely confused program's face.  
It wasn't Rinzler.  
In fact it wasn't a program. It was a User. An older man with silvery hair. And the man stood completely in shock, staring at all of them, mouth agape.

Kevin's jaw dropped as well. He stood frozen in place for a moment, eyes wide, shaking his head and staring at the man who was staring back at him with equal shock and disbelief.  
And when he finally was able to speak, his voice came out somewhere between a desperate gasp and a choked whisper.

_"...**Alan?..."**_


	22. Chapter 22

There was no way this was really happening.

No. This had to be a dream.  
One of those dreams where you think you've woken up but really you're still dreaming.  
Either that, or someone had slipped something funny in his food and he was hallucinating.  
Or maybe he'd somehow died and ended up in some weird art-deco holding cell between heaven and hell, where everyone had a doppelganger and drank from the fountain of youth.  
Well,...everyone except for him - that was the hell part.

Alan stared at what looked like a 32 year old Kevin Flynn standing before him.  
No, make that two 32 year old Kevin Flynns. One of them just said his name.  
And standing next to them, was a 36-ish year old version of himself.  
Meanwhile he stood here at the seasoned age of 59, wearing a suit that looked like one of those toy action-figure dolls, except human-sized, and with lights on it.

Matter of fact, everyone in the room was wearing these same kind of suits, differing only in their particular markings and colors. Some had capes and robes too, but they all looked pretty much like action-figure dolls,...in fact, they looked like the action-figure dolls Sam Flynn used to have when he was a kid...the promotional toys for 'Space Paranoids' and 'Tron'.

Tron. The Grid.  
No, this could not be. There was no way this was real.  
This could not possibly be what Kevin had been talking about.  
This was just a dream.

Alan stood there trying to will himself awake, thinking back through the last thing he remembered before falling asleep.

_What had he done?... _

One minute he'd been sitting at Kevin's console desk in the computer lab, then he'd decided to turn on the old Apple to see if it still worked.  
He had hit 'enter' when it asked for a password, then some sort of "initializing" process started up by itself on the screen, … then all of a sudden – _zzhhwwaakk!_ - a bright flash of aqua light hit him, knocked him out of the chair.  
And he woke up on the floor of what looked like the lab, but it had changed. A lot.  
So had Flynn's Arcade.  
Then he'd made the mistake of trying to go outside the front door of the place,...which is when the gigantic, bizarre, brightly-lit craft that looked a whole lot like something from the Space Paranoids came swooping down and literally sucked him up into the sky.  
Next thing he'd known, he was in some ultramodern place that looked like a darkened gymnasium, where a small harem of white-haired women wearing silvery white cat-woman suits stripped his clothes off and literally drew this outfit onto him with their fingertips – which glowed, by the way – and then they'd stuck a glowing Frisbee disk on his back, after which a voice from the ceiling told him not to lose it, something about 'deresolution'.  
And then two guards had come and gotten him, and brought him here to this room. The weirdest place on earth. If he was still on earth. Which he wasn't, because this was only a dream.

He laughed.  
It was all he knew to do. Because this was completely absurd.  
He laughed, and then laughed hysterically.  
He figured that way he would probably wake himself up laughing and the dream would be over.

But instead, the room full of doppelgangers just stared at him like they were concerned he might be having a mental breakdown, and the guards who were holding him decided to yank at his arms and then hold him much more tightly.  
Then one of the Kevin Flynns took a step forward, said his name again, and then turned and whispered something to the other Kevin Flynn.  
Meanwhile the younger version of himself just stood and stared at him.

At that point he gave up on laughing to try to wake himself up, and decided he would just close his eyes instead.  
Yep, that was what he'd do...he would keep his eyes closed, and then when he opened them again he would be awake, and would find out he'd simply fallen asleep at his office desk and dreamed the whole damned thing.

He closed his eyes, and waited.

* * *

Kevin could not believe his eyes.  
_It was Alan. It was really Alan Bradley. _

He didn't know how he'd ended up here.  
Well,...he knew _how_ - obviously Alan had somehow digitized himself - but, the question was,..._WHY?_

And that question opened up the floor for a whole new set of questions...

_...had Sam told Alan about this place?  
...had Alan come to try to save him and bring him back?  
...how had he even known how to initialize the digitizing laser?  
...how had he found his way here to the arena?  
...why had he been mistaken for Rinzler?  
...how was it that with whatever was happening to the Grid now, Alan hadn't de-aged, yet he himself had?  
_

He stared at Alan, who just stood there laughing hysterically - was he alright?...had they done something to him?...or had the shock of this made him flip his lid?  
The sentries sure seemed to think so - they grabbed Alan's arms roughly, jerking him to stand up straight, and then they held on more tightly.  
Alan's only reaction to the rough treatment was to stop laughing and simply close his eyes.

Kevin looked at Clu, and whispered. _"Tell 'em to let him go, man."_

Clu looked back at him, brows knitting into a confused look, then pulled him aside and whispered his reply. "_I do not ever 'just let programs go', Kevin, … that would be extremely out of character. I can't just do that - I'd have to have a reason, … or else the staff would know something is amiss. "_

Kevin's eyes flared. His voice stayed a whisper, but the look on his face was one of pure incredulity.

"_Damn it, Clu, … you bet something's amiss, man!... Alan Bradley's somehow gotten himself onto the Grid! … Alan-One, man! ...okay maybe you don't know him, but...this man is my lifelong friend, my- … my son's guardian! … I haven't seen him in 21 years, and he's -"_

Kevin paused, giving a huff of frustration as he glanced back at Alan who still stood with his eyes closed.  
Then his gaze whipped right back to Clu and he continued in the insistent whisper. _  
_

"_...well, I don't know how old he is now, but … he's older than me, … and he sure as hell doesn't belong here, Clu, especially not as a prisoner … can't you see he's freaked out?...get 'em to let him go, man!"  
_

Clu just looked at Kevin, with a calm, calculating, detached expression which was way too close to that of 'arrogant indifference' for Kevin's comfort.  
And then he simply shook his head and said, _ "It would jeopardize us."_

And that finally sent Kevin over the edge.  
His eyes grew wider with incredulity, his brow plunging into a rarely-seen furious frown which definitely meant serious business.  
He nearly spat the tirade of angry whispered words, and there wasn't a shred of Zen in them anywhere.

"_...JEOPARDIZE US ? ...man - you wanna talk 'jeopardized' ? !... " _

Kevin's eyes flared with a brief flash of threat, but then he reigned in his anger, shook his head, _ "...look, you think you're gonna' out-stubborn me on this, you 'got another think comin' man!...I'll pull Creator rank on you if I have to,...right here!...so by God, Clu, you-...you tell your guards to **let him GO****!** … **NOW**!**!**!... You don't argue with me, you just **DO IT ****!** ..."_

Kevin punctuated the words "_do it_" by poking a finger at Clu's yellow-lit chest, and then he glared at him, arms crossed. Clearly he wasn't going to take no for an answer.  
Clu in turn raised an eyebrow, his narrowed eyes smoldering with resentment.  
He exhaled, stared at Kevin for a few nano-cycles, then turned to the sentries who held Alan and barked, _"__**Release him!**__"_

The sentries immediately did as they were told.  
Alan didn't open his eyes, and instead just squeezed them shut more tightly.  
Then Clu looked at the sentries and waved a dismissive hand.

"_Now, ... **leave us**."_

And with that, the sentries stepped aside and quickly hurried away.  
Jarvis stood looking sheepishly at Clu, and Clu simply raised one eyebrow, giving the obsequious aide an icy stare-down until he turned around and hurried out of the room.  
Then Clu looked at Kevin with a perfunctory nod..._it was done, just as he'd asked._

Kevin's expression had calmed somewhat, and now he just looked back at Clu solemnly with intense eyes. Then he nodded once. _"Thank you."_

And then he looked over at Alan, who still had his eyes closed. He took another slow step towards him, and then another, and another.

"_Alan?..."_

Alan just smiled, but didn't open his eyes.  
Kevin guessed he was either in shock or else maybe thought he was dreaming – he'd certainly thought that himself, too, back when he'd first arrived here.

"_Alan? … it's me, … it's Kevin, …man, it's really me. Open your eyes, … you're in the Grid, man … I don't know how ya' got here, but, you are ..." _

Kevin walked a few more careful steps closer.  
Alan slowly opened his eyes, which instantly became wide and pensive as he looked at Kevin.  
He just shook his head, staring. He was really starting to panic now.

"_This can't be real! ...because, look at you- … you're- … you haven't aged a day! … and, there are two of you, … and, that's me over there- or, was me, ... no, this can't be real...it just can't...no way!"_

Alan was agitated, angry, very confused, and looked a little scared too.  
Kevin stepped closer, de-rezzing his gloves, then stuck out his hand, speaking in a gentle concerned voice.

"_It is, man...here, touch my hand … I'm real …see?... it's me … I just look younger, … I'm 53, man, …'shoulda' seen me six milli- uh,...coupla' days ago,... I just got switched back to this virtual age somehow..."_

Alan just looked at him, more confused.  
Far more confused, in fact.  
Finally he very slowly and tentatively reached towards Kevin's hand, jumping when he felt actual solid mass under his touch instead of a mirage as he'd expected to feel.  
Then he felt of his own hand, his arm, and found that it was solid too.  
_...so,...this means I'm not dreaming?... _  
He stared up at the 32 year old man in front of him, slowly shaking his head.

Kevin sighed, looking with compassion at Alan's lost and baffled expression. He whispered to himself, forgetting he was actually speaking aloud. _ "…man, … Sam hasn't told you a thing about this..." _

His whisper trailed off, then he gave a wry smile, patting his own chest with his hands.

"_Alan, … it's ME ! ... I've been trapped here, for twenty-one years ... digitized myself here again one __time in '89,... then things all of a sudden just... changed...and I couldn't get back … "_

Alan looked in his eyes. Stared at him.  
The voice, what he'd said, the mannerisms...this was really him.  
This was Kevin Flynn. Somehow.  
He'd been here all this time.

After a long pause, they instantly reached to embrace each other at the same time, then stood hugging each other tightly, almost desperately, patting each other on the back, holding on.  
When they finally pulled apart there were tears in both their eyes. And they both smiled.

Alan stepped back, shook his head, still staring at Kevin incredulously as he patted him on the shoulders. Then he just smiled and burst out laughing again.

"_I can't believe it's really real!...and you were right-... all this time,...you were right!...the Grid,..you got in-...and-...I-...we-...we all thought-…" _ then he paused, taking a deep breath,_ "...how,... how is this even possible, Kevin?..."_

Kevin just sighed, shook his head, and gave a chuckle. _"Man,... we 'got a lot to talk about."_

Alan looked past Kevin, a curious look on his face as he pointed at Clu. Kevin gave a grin, turned to look back at Clu, then looked at Alan again.

"_This is Clu...you remember, the Codified Likeness Utility, right? … he's version 2.0 -...I made him to be...well, a virtual me, ... to run the Grid while I wasn't here, ...Clu's kinda become like, my twin kid brother...we -...we just look the same age, right now..." _

Hearing this, Clu's mouth curled into a slight grin.  
He'd heard Kevin call him his 'twin' before, but now he'd called him his 'kid brother'.  
He wasn't exactly sure what that was in the User world, but he knew that it implied attachment, belonging, endearment.  
He still simmered with the waning stirs of resentment, but hearing this made him proud.

Still dazed, Alan stared at Clu and managed a fascinated grin, shaking his head. Then he looked at Kevin. _"...he's the spitting image of you. "_

Kevin chuckled, glancing back at Clu again with a raised eyebrow and a bit of a stern smirk, _"Yeah,...he is,...for the most part, anyway."_

By this time, Tron had slowly stepped closer to them, and was looking at Alan. Before Kevin could introduce them, Tron tilted his head, smiled softly, and said, _"Alan-One?..."_

Alan gave a look of surprise, then nodded, staring at his own Codified Likeness Utility, and he suddenly knew very well who this was. His eyes widened, and he smiled. _"Tron?..."_

Tron nodded his head, smiling, deeply honored to finally meet his User.  
And Alan laughed. _"This...this is too much!..."_ He reached to grab Tron's hand but Tron flinched and glanced at Kevin, who simply chuckled and patted his shoulder, _"It's ok, man, … you just give him your hand – the handshake,... remember?..."_

Tron looked back at Alan, then extended his hand. Alan shook it, held onto it, still looking into Tron's face with a fascinated smile verging on disbelief.

_"Pleased to finally meet you,...in person...and,...so,...you're-...you're the same Tron who sent the query...way back,..."_

Alan paused. Inwardly Kevin hoped Alan wasn't about to say something about "MCP".  
But instead Alan just shook his head, smiling, finally letting go of Tron's gloved hand, then shaking his head again with a smile.

"_Boy, I tell you...isn't this something!...You really do look just like me!" _

Tron just smiled.

A long silence passed between all of them as they stood there. Alan exhaled, slowly processing all of this, and then finally looked over at Kevin.

"_So,...how in the world do we get back?..."_

Kevin glanced at Clu, then at Tron, and then back at Alan. The last thing he wanted to do now was to freak him out again. Kevin crossed his arms, raised both brows as he took a deep breath, then he finally replied, nodding slowly.

_"Well,...you know,...like I said, man,... we got a lot to talk about."_


	23. Chapter 23

Los Angeles, CA

* * *

Quorra tightened her grasp around Sam's waist, hanging on as he accelerated the Ducati up the hill. Apart from having two wheels, motorcycles in the User world were really nothing like light-cycles. They were loud, exceedingly so, and they needed to be filled with fuel and maintained with mechanical expertise in order to continue operating. They couldn't travel at even a fraction of the speed that a light-cycle could, they didn't glow or make light-ribbons, and, when one was finished riding there was no way to just de-rezz a motorcycle into a baton.

And yet,...for all the differences, riding on the back of Sam Flynn's motorcycle with him still reminded Quorra very much of what it had been like to become one with the light-cycles of the Grid. It was still exhilarating, and, it was infinitely easier than driving a light-cycle...she didn't have to steer or think about where they were going...all she had to do was hang on tight to Sam, and simply become one with him.

She watched as the rows of vertical structures which Users called 'buildings' all zoomed by past her vision in the helmet's face shield. Then the buildings slowed and the pitch of the engine lowered, which meant they were slowing down. Sam had illuminated the turn signal – another thing which light-cycles didn't have – which meant it was time to for them to turn a corner, and with the upward flip of his booted toe on the gear shift, Sam geared the engine down to give the tires more traction as they turned. Then they were leaning into the turn slightly.  
_...this is easy...he leans, I lean...he stops leaning, I do too..._

And then the bike was slowing down again, this time rapidly, and she turned her head to see that they had arrived at Flynn's Arcade. All of a sudden, Sam's muffled voice startled her as it filtered out from his helmet. _"Whoa!...No way!..." _

Just ahead in the street, she could see a very large four-wheeled vehicle which was beginning to drive away from the curb. It was pulling one of the boxy-looking four-wheeled vehicles the Users called "cars" behind it as it went, and the two vehicles were connected by some sort of a hook apparatus which linked them. She had never seen a sight like that before, but then again, she had only been here in the User world for a short time.

Sam pulled the bike to a stop, and Quorra quickly hopped off the back, beginning to remove her helmet. Then Sam hopped off the bike too, but he didn't remove his helmet. Instead he went running fast down the street, chasing after the linked four-wheeled vehicles, waving his arms and and yelling, "_Hey...!"  
_But the linked vehicles kept right on going.

"_Sam Flynn!...what are you doing?"_ she called after him, but he didn't turn around or answer. Then he finally slowed to a stop farther down the street, and was reaching for something in his jacket. She craned her neck to see what he was doing.

The cell phone. Now It looked like he was using the cell phone to capture images of the linked four-wheeled vehicles. It reminded Quorra of the previous day when they'd captured images of Marv while Sam was teaching her to use the features on her new cell phone. She wasn't sure why he was capturing images of those linked vehicles now, but perhaps he had never seen such a thing before either. That must have been why he had run after them as he did.

She watched as he took off his helmet, pressed some buttons on the cell phone, held it to his ear. This meant he was calling someone. He was too far away down the street for her to hear what he was saying, but she studied his movements as he was speaking into the phone. He turned to look at the building, and then looked back at the street, and then back at the building. He did this twice, then paced back and forth, seeming confused as well as frustrated.

By the time he ended the call he had walked almost all the way back over to where she stood, and was tucking the phone back into his jacket.

Quorra gave a curious expression, and tilted her head, eyes wide.

"_Sam Flynn,...why did you do that?...what is the matter?..."  
_

Sam still looked frustrated, still a bit out of breath from having run so fast. He hung his helmet on the handlebar, and gestured with a nod back down the street.

"_That was ...Alan's car -... they're towing it...I couldn't catch the driver's attention...'got the number on the tow-truck though - took a picture..."  
_

Quorra's head tilted again. _"Towing?"  
_

Sam sighed, then gave a grin. This was one of so many things he was going to have to teach her about this world.

_"Towing,...yeah, well,...there are rules - places we're supposed to park, places we aren't. Sometimes they take your vehicle if you don't follow the rules."  
_

Immediately Quorra frowned, indignant. _"That's unfair punishment!... Will he be able to get another one?..."  
_

Sam looked puzzled, then chuckled when he realized what she meant. He may have to teach her a lot, but he could tell she was going to make him smile a lot too in the process. Her naivete and literal-mindedness were endearing, if not refreshing.

_"No,...no, they don't keep it...not usually anyway...they just take it somewhere for a while,...and you have to pay a fine to get it back..."  
_

Her brows raised. _"A fine?..."  
_

Sam nodded, as he got back on the bike and released the kickstand. 

_"Yep. I'll explain later. For now, 'gotta move this over to a different spot...or it'll get towed too..." _He nodded towards the arcade, _"You go on over and wait for me, ok?... "  
_

Quorra nodded, and turned to walk towards the building.  
Sam sighed, looking down at the curb which was clearly painted red.

_...man, what happened to plain old parking tickets?...towing seems kinda harsh, for just parking on a red curb...  
...why'd he park right here, anyway?...plenty of spots all down the street... _

Something seemed odd about this.  
And it was more than just the city's choice to tow for such a minor offense.  
Alan wasn't the rebellious type – he didn't park illegally. Just parking at a meter which had almost expired usually sent him into a furious search for change.  
And it was peculiar for him to not answer his cell phone too.

Sam glanced around, looking at all the empty parking spaces. Then he shrugged, deciding he'd just park in his usual spot.  
He started the bike, backed it up a few feet, then gunned the throttle and jumped the curb, drove the bike right up next to the side of the building and then cut the engine.

Approaching the door, he looked over to see Quorra standing on the sidewalk in front of the arcade. She was looking up past the old brick archways at the sunny sky, squinting and smiling in the warm morning sun. She turned to look at him, smiled, and then returned her gaze to the skies.

" _Didn't realize he was even gonna' be here today. Then again it's Saturday...guess he wanted to get started helping me clean this place - " _

He paused, finding the door locked when he pulled on the handle.  
_...nice, Alan. It's the middle of the day. Paranoid much?..._

He looked in through the window.  
The lights inside were on, but didn't see any sign of Alan.  
He fished his keys back out of his pocket, then stood fiddling with the old key in the stubborn lock. Finally he got the door open, then stuck his head in. 

_"Alan?...Hey!...I'm here!..."_ But no one answered.

"_Alan?..."_ Again there was only silence.

He walked in, then looked around the front of the arcade.  
Nothing had been disturbed or moved, and the place was just as much of a dusty wreck as when he'd left it last night.  
It didn't look like Alan had even been there.

Puzzled, Sam walked back out of the door, pausing to turn off the light switch. He locked the door, and stood thinking.  
This really didn't make sense, and it definitely wasn't like Alan.  
The issue of his having parked at a red curb notwithstanding, even if he'd come by the arcade and had suddenly had car trouble or something, he wouldn't have just left the car there.  
He would have had it towed and taken a cab.

_...hmm,...wonder if that's why the tow-truck came?..._

Sam stared at the empty street. His mind was trying to make sense of this, and at the same time trying to make sense of just why this was bothering him so much.

_...it's bothering me because it's really weird, that's why...doesn't make sense... _

_...maybe he walked somewhere to get lunch?_

He glanced at his watch.

_...10:15...little early for lunch..._

_...can't see him walking anywhere in this neighborhood anyway...nearest place is about seven blocks..._

He tried Alan's cell again.  
Still no answer, and voice-mail picked up.  
He waited, then left the message.  
"_Alan,...it's Sam again...hey yeah, so,... still at the arcade...thought I'd try calling the tow company,...if you want me to, or I'll just wait to hear back from you, whatever-..."_

He paused, trying not to sound too concerned, trying to think of what else to say.  
He was going to feel really stupid if it turned out Alan had towed his own car for some reason.

"_...well,...so,... guess I'm gonna' head by the office...'see if you're maybe there...call me when you get this, ok?..."_

He looked over at Quorra. _"Ready to ride again?..."_

She nodded. Within a couple of minutes they were on the bike, pulling away from the building, and zooming off down the street.


	24. Chapter 24

Alan stared at Kevin.

"_So,... a millicycle-...you're saying,...assuming this disk you have will still work,...then,...we have, basically, about eight hours to get there,...to this- portal,...or else we can't get back?"_

Kevin took a deep breath, then slowly nodded at him. _"Yeah. That's what I'm sayin'."_

Alan shook his head.  
All he'd done was to turn on Kevin's old computer.  
Now he was trapped inside it.  
With Kevin, and Tron, and Clu, and the Grid, and a million programs he'd never even imagined existed, plus some other indeterminate program which may or may not have taken over the Grid.  
Meanwhile, Sam, and Quorra, the last remaining Isomorphic Algorithm, were now back in the real world, along with Lora, and his life, and ENCOM, and everything he'd ever thought of as his reality.  
And there no way to know whether he and Kevin were ever going to be able to get back there again.

He exhaled slowly, then leaned back in the seat with a somber expression. This was quite an incredible amount of information to process all at once.

Damned pager.  
Yet really, if not for the pager, he'd have never found Kevin Flynn.

Alan sighed again, and looked up at Kevin. _"So what do you suggest we do...from here?" _

Kevin was about to answer, when suddenly Clu spoke in a calm voice, almost deadpan.

_"We have to get to the portal."_

Kevin's eyes narrowed to a squint, as his brow knotted into a frown. He slowly looked over at the program who sat back on a large cushioned seat which, for all practical purposes, could be called a throne. Having just re-stated the obvious, Clu now sat silently with bit model in his hands, turning it idly over and over, staring at the facets.

"_Yeahh,...we do, Clu,...that would be my first guess,...but,..."_ he sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead in mild frustration, _"...but the thing is,...how can we even be certain the portal still exists,...or that it's still open?..."_

Clu just looked up at him quizzically, but then went back to studying the bit model in his hands.

Kevin continued, _"...you saw it yourself, Clu,...when we woke up-... came to-...were-...were reborn, or whatever it is that happened to us by the Sea of Simulation...most of the platform wasn't even there anymore, man,...it was destroyed."_

This time it was Tron who spoke. _"Maybe,...it has been re-digitized?...somehow, reset?..."_

Kevin looked at him and gave a slight nod, considering it. If the batons could just appear in his elevator, he guessed that a portal platform could just re-appear over the Sea of Simulation too.

Clu looked up again, raising an eyebrow. _"Or,...perhaps it's in a different location now?"_

Kevin's sighed, closing his eyes. _"Yeah, and like that's not gonna' be tough to find...if it's been moved it could be anywhere..." _

He stood up, walking to the observation window.  
The arena crowd had grown considerably, the combined chatter of their collective voices all mingling into one incomprehensible dull roar. They all seemed so restless, rife with audible anticipation for the brutal action of the games to begin. He thought back to the odd vigilante guards which he, Clu and Tron had witnessed while traveling on foot as they'd encountered the Recognizer...the Grid had definitely changed, and the arena was apparently no longer the only place where those with a lust for violence and predation gathered.  
Apparently now the entire city was.

Kevin sighed, turned back to face Clu, Tron and Alan.

"_Then again,...kinda hard to miss a huge beacon of light shooting into the sky. It's getting TO it that could be the problem." _

After that comment, the four of them remained silent, thoughtful for quite a few nanocycles.  
Clu sat staring at the bit model.  
Tron and Alan quietly sat across from one another, each occasionally stealing furtive glances across at their "other selves".  
Kevin had turned back to look over the arena crowds, and now stood thinking about End of Line, wishing it hadn't been destroyed. Because it wasn't too far away from the arena, and, from that tower, one could see every point of the city, even as far as the edge of the Outlands...if there was a portal active, they'd have been able to see it and locate it from the End of Line Tower. But that was now a moot point, he guessed.

Finally it was Alan who broke the silence, looking over at Tron. _"What did you mean,... 're-digitized'?...are there lasers...here?..""_

Tron took a breath, not sure what Alan was asking. He looked at Kevin.

Kevin looked back and forth between Tron and Alan. This was still very surreal, seeing them sitting three feet from one another in the same room.  
Well, virtual room, anyway.

"_No,..no lasers,...it's basically,...well,... it's kinda similar to how you got here though,...transferring matter by way of scanning and rewriting the codes of its components-...it's just that, once you're here,...as a User, transferring matter is more like...well, like making a change with a thought,... and with a little help from your disk...just a process of recombinant-" _

Kevin paused mid-explanation, then sighed, scratched his head.  
He wasn't sure how to proceed.  
This was after all his life's work, work which had taken him years and years to figure out, and even though Alan himself was a skilled programmer, explaining this to him in a way which wouldn't take the entire millicycle of time they had would not be easy.  
He opted for the show-and-tell method.

"_Okay, well,...say I wanna change my clothes...I just think of what it is I want to change into...and-"_

Kevin paused, trying to think of some form to digitize. He wanted the original to be something Alan could see and look at, to show how accurate the recreation process was.  
He happened to glance over at Clu, which gave him a sudden idea.  
_...ah, sure!...that'll work..._

Kevin took the disk off of his own back, and pressed a button on it.

"_Here,...let's say I decide I wanna wear an outfit like Clu's, okay?...So I just look at him, and,... what am I doing when my eyes are looking at him? I'm basically scanning him, right?...that's what this button here does...combines the code of my thoughts- my conscious choice,... with the code for what my eyes are seeing,...and converts it all to one code,..then,...when I put this back on,..." _

He paused, replacing the disk on his back.  
Slowly the area his neck to the floor began to shimmer, as pixels rearranged, and then he stood wearing Clu's same long regal robe trimmed with amber glowing light.  
Underneath it was a light-suit identical to Clu's.

Clu's face immediately brightened to see Kevin dressed as him. He found it flattering.  
Alan's face not only brightened, but he laughed out loud. He found it fascinating.

"_Ha!...That's amazing!...That's what you meant all those times,...mentioning recombinant coding...and in the books -"_ he paused, shaking his head. _"Anybody ever tell you you're a genius, kid?"_

Kevin chuckled, blushing a little. _"Well,...haven't been called 'kid' in a long time,...and,...some genius – I got us all stuck HERE!"_

Alan kept shaking his head in wonder. _"Yes but you FOUND here!...you got IN! That's the miraculous part!"_

Kevin shrugged modestly.

"_Yeah,...'guess so,...but, let's don't go overboard...it'll be 'miraculous' when I can see my son again,...and,...when you and I can go play racquetball at the club together,...on a real court... – in the real world!..."_

Alan gave a wry chuckle. _"Well,...hate to break it to you, Kev, but...the club went out of business a decade ago. It's a hardware store now. Besides, people don't really play racquetball a lot these days..."_

Kevin's face fell into a surprised look of disappointment. _"Really?...no racquetball clubs?..."_

Alan quirked his head sadly. _"Not-so-much, no. They still have health clubs, and some with courts,...just not all over the place."_

Kevin's brow raised tentatively. _"...tennis?"_

Alan smiled, nodding. _"Well, yes, they still have tennis courts..."_ he paused, chuckling, then got a thoughtful look and went right back to the subject of digitization.

_"...so,...digitization...does it have to be something you see,...or can it be scanned from memory?..."_

Kevin shrugged again. _"Sure. Depends on how good a person's memory is, I guess."_

Alan nodded, and was quiet for a moment. Then he gave a curious look. _"Can I do it too?"_

Kevin chuckled. _"Sure you can do it, Alan...you're a User...you have User powers just like me..."_ he paused, glancing at Clu, _"...and he can do it too, to a certain extent. I gave Clu administrative rights to the system."_

Alan sat considering Kevin's words, with one raised eyebrow, narrowed eyes, and a smirk.

This look Kevin knew well, even after twenty-one years.  
This look meant Alan was wanting to try something, yet was wrestling with himself, wondering if it was at all practical or necessary to do so.  
Kevin chuckled again, and smiled, walking over to him, the long ominous robe flowing as he walked.

"_Here,...let me show you..."_ he took the disk off of Alan's back, then pointed to one of the four buttons near the center of the open core and continued. _"...you press this one,...then decide what you want to digitize,...you think about it, picture it, right?...then press the button again." _He handed the disk to Alan, then continued,_ "...has to be you pressing it,...it won't work if I do."_

Alan nodded. He thought for a moment, then pressed the button, developing a stern look of concentration on his face. And then he pressed the button again.  
Kevin took the disk from Alan, then replaced it on the hub at his back.  
A short flicker of shimmering pixels danced across Alan's silver hair for a few nanos, and then there he sat, an L.A. Dodgers baseball cap on his head.

Kevin laughed.  
This was so very Alan.  
And that always was his favorite old hat.

"_Good job!...pretty close on the logo, too!..."_

Alan reached up, took off the cap, looked at it, then put it back on, smiling proudly. Kevin thought he looked rather surreal sitting there in a light-suit with a Dodgers cap on his head.

Kevin gave a smirk, _"...nice to see they still have baseball these days, at least..."_

Alan tilted his chin downward, matching Kevin's smirk with one of his own, then gave a grin. _"Some things will never go out of style."_

Just then, Alan yanked the cap off his head suddenly and stared at it.  
Then he brought his hand to his brow, feeling around with gloved fingertips across his eyes. He looked up at Kevin. _"Hey, how come I can see here without my glasses on?"_

Kevin gave a slight frown, then both his brows raised and he shook his head.

"_Don't know...how come I look like I'm thirty-two again, and don't really have to shave unless I get tired of the Miami Vice beard stubble here..." _Kevin paused, chuckling as he rubbed the unshaven shadow which had appeared on his chin,_ "...'always comes back, but doesn't grow into a beard, just stays like this...just like Clu's does." _

Clu suddenly looked up at Kevin, stroking a gloved hand across his own slightly-stubbly chin as well. He looked puzzled. This he had never considered.

Kevin just crossed his arms, shrugged as he looked back at Alan, continuing to ponder the point of his non-digitized eyeglasses.

"_...variables, I think,...kinda like-...like what we were talking about with ISO's,...or with the Grid - the way it's changed in ways we didn't foresee..."_ he paused, focusing his gaze on the area around Alan's eyes, and then gave a slight nod. _"My guess is,...you either didn't have 'em on when you were digitized, ...or else,...maybe it read your eyes and the corrective lenses together,...adjusted your eyes to the lens compensation somehow when it rezzed you in,...I don't really know..."_

Kevin stood looking at Alan, pondering over this, as Alan sat thinking back to when he'd sat down at the desk in the lab.

"_Well, ...pretty sure I was wearing them...but,... who's complaining - I can see. "_ He paused, then gave a slight smirk as he looked at Kevin's five-o'clock shadow. _"...and besides- at least I didn't end up with the Don Johnson look. That's definitely out of style."_

Kevin opened his mouth to speak but then paused, getting one of those slow-spreading incredulous smiles he often got when he just couldn't quite think of the right comeback for one of Alan's surprise sarcastic remarks.  
Then he narrowed his eyes, and nodded slowly. _"...Thanks,...man,..."_

Alan smiled back at his old friend.  
Digitized or not, it sure was good to see Flynn again.

Just then a chime sounded, and all four of them looked across the anteroom to see the elevator doors opening.

Clu's eyes narrowed, as eight unfamiliar-looking sentries came filing out of the elevator. They carried staffs, but their suits were plain and trimmed with blue...oddly they looked more like programs who'd be sitting in the arena crowd than sentries of his elite guard. Behind the group of sentries walked Jarvis, wearing a rather uncharacteristic haughty look on his face, his chin held high.

The sentries strode briskly towards where Clu was sitting, then formed a semi-circular arch around the entire group. Two of them went immediately to stand on either side of Kevin, while Jarvis walked over to stand beside Clu's chair.

Clu's eyes slowly narrowed as he stood up and then stared down at Jarvis, towering over him with an impatient glare.

"_I just bet you're going to have a very good explanation for interrupting us like this." _

But Jarvis ignored Clu, and instead looked at Kevin, his eyes roving from head to toe and back again with disdain as he surveyed the man who stood wearing Clu's robes, identical to Clu in every feature. Then he pointed at Kevin, and barked at the sentries.

"_Sieze him!...he is an impostor!..."_

Kevin's eyebrows shot upward, and his eyes went wide with utter disbelief. His voice went up nearly an octave and he almost laughed as he blurted out, _**"WHAT?..." **_

The sentries flanking Kevin immediately grabbed hold of his arms. He stared back and forth at them incredulously, and then at Jarvis, and finally, at Clu. "_What the-...MAN!...what IS this?"_

Clu glared at the sentries who held Kevin. _**"Release him, .. .now!"**_ His voice was a low vitriolic growl.

But instead of releasing Kevin the sentries began to force him across the room, with him stumbling while trying futilely to resist and evade their grasp. Tron stood up immediately, as did Alan, but then four more guards were instantly at Alan's side, grabbing hold of him and carrying him off towards the elevator right behind Kevin, while the other two guards moved in on Tron, backing him up to the wall.

Clu flew into action, and went barreling after the sentries who were carrying Kevin and Alan away, but then the remaining two sentries and Jarvis stepped in front of him. Jarvis looked at Clu with indifference through his clear visor, and sneered condescendingly.

"_You may stand down now, Clu."_

The sentries reinforced Jarvis' statement by pointing their light-staffs at Clu, poised for de-resolution.

Clu stood motionless, trying to comprehend this, while from across the room he heard the chime of the elevator. His eyes shifted to see the guards forcing Kevin and Alan into the elevator. Clu's eyes found Kevin's only briefly before the doors slid closed, and the look in Kevin's was one of fear and concern for Clu, not for himself. For a split-nanocycle, Clu's face registered panic, sorrow, grief, as he stood immobilized, watching the elevator doors slide closed. Then his grief quickly turned to seething retaliatory anger. He turned his head to glare at Jarvis, ground out the words icily through a clenched jaw, his voice escalating to a full yell. _"__**What **__do you think you're __**DOING**__?"_

Jarvis didn't flinch. He simply raised his chin, and replied, _"Following orders. I answer to a new master now. You are relieved of your command. You are simply to sit here with your...new assistant..."_ he paused, casting a patronizing look at Tron, _"...and the two of you will witness the games...until such time as he is needed as a warrior, that is."_

Clu's eyes went through the phases of shock, disbelief, rage, denial, bargaining, and acceptance in less than a nanocycle, then he went straight back to rage. Ever the defiant one, he reached for his disk with vengeance, but the instant he did he felt the scalding sizzle of a light-staff as it seared into his side, damaging circuitry and sending pixels flying as he cried out in pain and fell to the floor.

Seeing Clu wounded, Tron tried to break free of the sentries who held him, struggling in vain against their iron grasp, until Jarvis casually glanced in his direction, then nodded toward Clu who was crumpled on the floor, _"...would you care for a matching wound?..."_

Filled with righteous rage and powerlessness at the same time, Tron stopped struggling, left with no choice but to watch in horror as Clu slowly crawled back into his chair in agonizing pain, sat down, and stared at Jarvis, defeated, with cold contempt in his eyes.

Jarvis looked back at Clu, and spoke in a voice which was devoid of any emotion whatsoever, _"...now,...as I said,... you will sit here and witness the games. That is now your only purpose..." _he paused, looking at Tron, then back at Clu, as he continued. _"...and you will be monitored...should you attempt to escape, or to use your disk as a weapon,...you will then witness your own immediate de-resolution."_

He signaled the sentries, who slowly moved away from both Clu and Tron, keeping their staffs poised and eyes trained on both of them as they returned to stand by Jarvis. Then he spoke to the sentries in a voice which he made sure was loud enough for Clu and Tron to easily overhear.

"_Now...we must go and make certain Mr. Flynn is quickly brought to the games. It will be interesting to see how he does against Rinzler."_

And with that, Jarvis and the sentries turned, exiting swiftly from the room.


	25. Chapter 25

For a few nanocycles, Clu could hear only a dense ringing in his ears, as his awareness of all else but the scalding pain dimmed and receded to the background. Somehow he'd managed to crawl up from the floor, propelled largely by bitter pride, refusing to lay defeated in a stunned heap at the feet of his new-found nemesis. Now at least he sat defeated in his own chair, watching as that despicable turncoat Jarvis vacated the room flanked by guards, which meant at least he could relax his pride somewhat.

However, he couldn't seem to relax his body.  
Long fingers clung to the ends of the armrests, nearly tearing into the pixels of simulated veneer fabric. His jaw was set with fury and his face contorted by more pain than he'd ever felt in all the cycles.  
His circuitry dimmed and flickered, his energy plummeting to a dangerously low level from the duress. For the first time, he had the fleeting realization of what fear feels like - he was reluctant to look down at his side, for fear that a good portion of the pixels would simply be gone. He closed his eyes, logic screaming at him to bypass emotional reactions and act quickly. He knew if he could manage to focus past the pain and remain alert he could retrieve his disk and get to the task of repairing himself, before his energy dipped so low that he went into involuntary sleep-mode.

When he opened his eyes again, Tron was kneeling down in front of him, a grave look on his face. But his voice was steeled with calm determination. _"Clu, how can I help?"_

Clu looked at him for a moment, conflicted by the strong, prideful reflex to insist upon self-sufficiency, to not cave in to his weakness. But the pain and shock overrode that reflex, and the drain on his system was making it difficult to focus his thoughts.

"_You can't,...you don't have... administrative...privileges..." _he ground out through a pain-clenched jaw, circuits flickering again. Then he slowly reached out his hand. "_Take my disk...off...and,...give it to me..."_

So Tron reached carefully to his back, removing the disk and handing it to him. While Clu stared at the disk, trying to corral his thoughts into cohesiveness, Tron couldn't help glancing at the wound on Clu's side. It chilled him to see it - as Rinzler he'd inflicted such wounds many times on programs, and none of them had survived. He knew that had this injury been due to the impact of a disk, likely Clu would have been completely de-rezzed on the spot, but as it was, the sentries apparently wielded their weapons with such careful precision so as to bring Clu only to the brink of destruction, not take him out completely. Perhaps it was their idea of a warning, but it was undeniably a cruel and harsh one.

When Tron looked up at Clu's face again, he could see from the half-lidded eyes that his energy was waning to a dangerously low level. He immediately reached out, placing his hand to Clu's chest, literally pressing him back in the chair, and then Clu's eyes suddenly went wide with confusion and surprise,...until the surge of energy coursed through him, reviving his pain-ravaged circuits to a bright yellow glow. Tron suffused Clu with as much of his life-force as he could spare, and Clu accepted it, staring right at Tron, taken aback. No program had ever done that for him before. Even his own Creator hadn't. He paused, uncertain of what to say, then finally said simply, _"Thank you..." _

Tron nodded, standing somewhat wearily. _"You are welcome..."_ He turned to walk towards the glass observation window, then stopped, looked back around. _"...I fight for the users."_

Clu looked up from the disk, puzzled. _"...but,... I'm not a User..."_

Tron nodded, the hint of a smile in his eyes. _"...close enough..." _And then he turned and walked back towards the window.

Clu's eyes softened. A slow grin spread over his face, and had Tron turned back around to see it, he would have said Clu had never looked more like his Creator than he did right then.

* * *

Though Kevin couldn't see beyond the pristine high-gloss tinted finish of the transparent flooring, he did catch glimpses of the area through the side panels. It was enormous, unbelievably so, far larger than it had ever been so many years ago when last he'd entered it. Now to think of the sheer numbers of programs that were gathered in this one facility was staggering. He could certainly get a feel for it, judging by the noise level...what had seemed only a dull hum when he'd stood in the mezzanine with Clu, Tron and Alan now seemed an utterly deafening roar, as thousands of voices yelling in the arena all mingled together to assault his eardrums at once over a loud backdrop of techno music which droned on endlessly. The tinted transparent enclosure they'd dropped him in did little to ameliorate the noise level. He could feel the noise vibrations under his feet, all the way through his boots.  
_...so this is what's happened to the Grid?..._

He wasn't quite sure if anyone could see him up there. He heard the crowds cheering, but when he tried waving that got no change in the noise-level, and no response at all. He wasn't sure if this was a holding cell of some sort, and really he didn't actually want to know. The thought of just that unnerved him, let alone what it might be holding him for. What he wanted to know was just how far off the ground he was, and what structures were nearby, because he was seriously thinking of playing the Creator card again, and busting his way out of this with one gigantic fell swoop. As for what he would do after that, he really hadn't thought it out that far yet.

And he didn't have a chance to.  
Because suddenly a booming voice over the massive PA system began announcing something.  
He heard, _"Good evening programs..."_ but the sound echo in the huge arena made it hard for him to understand much more than that. He could hear only snippets of what was being said, but whatever it was made the crowds go wild.

Then he realized that what it was that made the crowds go wild...apparently, was him.

At least he thought so,...until he heard the echoing voice say, _"...Combatant One,...KEVIN FLYNN, USER!"_

Then the crowds didn't go wild at all. First a noticeable hush spread over the arena, and then some cheered, but most joined in to voice a resounding 'boo' which went on for several nanoseconds. This completely baffled him, and he stood there trying to ascertain just how it was that probably close to half a million programs in the Grid which he created would be booing him and treating him to such a heinous reception.  
He gathered that apparently he was now hated, but what he didn't know was why.

And he didn't have much longer to ponder it.  
Because the crowds then kicked up the volume again, launching into a two-syllable cheer , and he could have sworn they were chanting, "..._Rinz-ler!...Rinz-ler!...Rinz-ler!...Rinz-ler!..." _  
Over and over they shouted this, and he could feel the vibrations from their feet stomping in time with the chant. And then, sure enough he heard the announcer confirm it with what sounded like great pride in his enthusiastic drawl..._"Combatant Number Twooooo...RRRRRRRRRINZLERRRRR...!_

_Then_ the crowds went wild.

When Kevin turned back around, he was no longer alone inside this odd encasement.  
Staring him down, was a helmeted figure in a light-suit he could never in a million cycles forget, even if it was now trimmed in fiery orange-red, instead of blue.  
The figure held two light disks.  
They were calling him Rinzler. But it wasn't. Nor was it Tron. One look at the figure's frame told him it was Alan Bradley.

He exhaled sigh of relief, calling out to him across the encasement they were in.

"_Alan!...Thank God it's you!...Listen we can't treat this like a Frisbee match, man,...if-...if these disks hit either one of us,... they'll slice right through!..we gotta just stall for time and think of a way to get out of he- "_

He didn't have time to finish the sentence, because he was too busy ducking to keep from losing an arm and a leg to the disks which went whirring past him. He hit the flooring, then jumped back up. Once he'd gotten to his feet, his eyes were as big as saucers.

"_MAN!...What the-?...didn't you just hear what I-"_

What had stopped him cold mid-sentence, baffled him, and chilled him to the core, was the sound he'd heard.  
He'd heard it once before, back in the lab, when Tron had made it after they'd rebooted him.

...a dissonant menacing cross between a soft rattle and a purr.


	26. Chapter 26

Half-crouched in a defensive posture, Kevin stood motionless, frozen in place, eyes wide open, his gaze fixed on this figure which had for some ghastly reason just made that hauntingly-familiar purring noise.  
Was it a program?...A User?...A friend he once knew?  
Or some horrific deadly combination of the three?

_...man,...Alan,...this can't be you...it just can't...  
...what have they done to you?..._

If this was in fact Alan wearing Rinzler's suit and opaque mask, he had no idea what to do next.  
Even if it wasn't, he had no idea what to do next.  
His disk was still affixed to his back. Without it in hand, would his opponent still fight him?  
It seemed so, judging from the uncomfortably-close shave he'd almost just gotten when both disks had come zooming at him.  
Then again, what if he just stood very still, and tried to reason with whoever or whatever it was.  
_...no, wait – didn't I just try that?..._  
_...yeah,...probably not a good plan..._

And, there was the purring noise again.

Kevin grabbed the disk off his back, and the helmet instantly rezzed. But then he froze again.  
He had never been a fighter. Not like this.  
Only once had he been in anything close to a real skirmish, way back at Cal-Tech, when, he being a non-drinker, had decided to try some really innocuous-tasting punch at a friend's party. And he really didn't remember much about that, except that about six glasses later they'd all gone to some dive of a bar...which was when Alan had stepped in and very possibly saved him from getting socked in the nose by an angry drunk man who didn't appreciate being called whatever it was Kevin had supposedly called him, and that was about as close to either drinking or fighting as Kevin had ever cared to be since. He wasn't even really interested in competitive fighting either. Riding motorcycles and tossing Frisbees was about it for his sports fanaticism, and, aside from being slightly good on the racquetball court or running a few miles with a Walkman every now and then, he wasn't really an athlete.

But this Rinzler character obviously was, or, thought he was.  
Because he stood poised, ready to toss those disks and try once more to shave off Kevin's arms, legs or head, or all of the above, just any old minute now.

Kevin knew he had to do something. He wasn't certain this was the time for User powers, but it sure wasn't the time for standing there like a fool either. If this really was Alan in some sort of bizarre stage of hypnosis, he was still Alan, and, Kevin had faced him enough times on the racquetball courts to know his response times, tricks and weaknesses - they couldn't have changed that much over the past twenty-one years, except to maybe get slower. And if this was Alan, he didn't want to hurt him, so, maybe he'd just try a feint shot, just to see what Alan did...  
...so he crouched left but whipped the disk to the right, trying to sweep it to about calf-level but his aim was off and the disk soared straight for mid-section...and what Alan did, was to dodge the disk by swerving his body impossibly fast as he literally jumped up into the air, arching himself backward then kicking the wall and literally walking up it for three steps before flipping himself back over in the air to stand poised with the disk again.  
And the crowd went wild again, cheering thunderously.

Kevin stared, dumbfounded.  
_...yeah,...I'm thinking that's not Alan... _

Now he really didn't know what to do.  
But there wasn't time to think, as disk number one came flying at him just after his own disk returned to skid onto the floor near him. The sound of the crowd launching into another cheer drifted to the background of his awareness as he reacted from pure panic.

All he could do was drop to the floor again, this time rolling to reach for his disk as the opponent's disk flew past, grazing the edge of his shoulder-armor. Then as he rolled onto his back again, he looked up to see that the disk he'd just dodged was circling back around to return to his opponent's hand,...but what got his attention the most was that the opponent's second disk was already still in his hand, and the next thing he knew, this Rinzler creature was standing over him, leaning to bring both disks sweeping down straight for his head.

In another move borne of sheer self-preservation and adrenalin, Kevin ducked his head down to his chin, reaching up to grab Rinzler's arms, and then yanked as hard as he could.  
The move yanked Rinzler forward onto Kevin, who just narrowly missed getting his arm sawed off as one of Rinzler's disks crashed against the floor and was jarred right out of his hand.  
And then the iron-clad grasp latched onto Kevin's suit instead ...gripping his chest armor with both hands, as Rinzler dove into a roll, bringing Kevin with him in a tumble. Now frantic, Kevin reached to try to squirm away, but as he did his own disk grazed Rinzler's arm, ripping right through the light-suit and drawing blood.  
Rinzler cried out, suddenly releasing his grasp on Kevin's suit, momentarily distracted as he stood back up, shaking the arm with a growl.

_...so it IS Alan!...it's got to be – he's bleeding!..._

Kevin watched as Alan _- or Rinzler, or whoever...at this point he was calling it Alan_ – then used his uninjured other arm to draw back the one disk which remained in his possession, while stepping forward to send it flying furiously at him.

Somehow, Kevin's mind reacted with pure survival reflex, as he ducked and raised his disk to deflect the other disk, sending it glancing off to the side and clattering to the floor in the corner behind him, but not before it grazed his leg and stung him right through the light-suit.

He glanced down at his thigh but didn't see blood, so he reasoned it must not be too bad. He looked back up to see Alan somersaulting himself through the air to retrieve his other disk, which still lay on the floor a few meters away. In an effortless landing, he bent down to pick it up, then once again stood poised and ready to strike, once again uttering that chilling purr. He only had one disk at this point, but Kevin could see from his warrior demeanor that it was more than enough.

Kevin's leg still stung, and he was reaching the end of any skills he may have had in his arsenal, whereas his opponent was just getting warmed up, and was now ticked off enough to really damage him seriously, if not fatally. Alan's chest heaved, his fist curling more tightly around the disk as he growled that same foreboding purr. The next move was one Kevin pulled more from desperation, as a distraction to buy some time, but it worked...

"_**ALAN!**...**STOP!...What would Lora do if she saw you right now?...**"_

Alan froze, his dark-tinted helmet tilting slightly, then he stood registering the words.

"_**You don't wanna do this, man!**...I'm Kevin Flynn! I'm your friend!...You're Alan Bradley!...Your wife is Lora Baines Bradley!...We've-...we've all known each other for years!...you were there when my son was born,...my son, Sam - you're his guardian...Alan!...Think!...think about what you're doing!..."_

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.  
Alan growled another purr, and sent the disk flying.

Kevin jumped aside faster than he ever knew he possibly could, slamming into the corner as the disk crashed into the side wall, de-rezzing a hole in it. Kevin glanced over, now finally able to see through to the arena beyond...it looked as if this was a pod they were enclosed in, and it was positioned over the light-cycle arena...but there was an impossibly long fall should he choose to jump out the hole.  
This was not good.

However, now Alan was advancing towards him menacingly from the other side of the containing pod, most likely to retrieve his other disk which was over in the corner behind Kevin's left foot.  
This was not good either.

He reached and dove for Alan's disk from the floor, grabbing it, a move which somehow slowed Alan's footsteps to a curious wary prowl. But it was still a prowl, and Kevin knew that if Alan launched into another stunning tumble of air-gymnastics he'd be on Kevin in a heartbeat and would have the disk as well as his own, most likely.

Kevin reacted, making the choice.  
He might die from the fall, but at least it wouldn't be at the crazed hands of someone he'd called a close friend for most of his life.  
With one swift move, he returned his own disk to his back, then tightening his grasp on Alan's wayward disk, he vaulted forward and swung his arm, putting all his strength behind it. The disk collided with the wall next to the already-present hole, instantly de-rezzing a much larger opening. The crowd gasped, and then cheered insanely as pixels flew and then fell in tiny shards. He glanced out, and then down...the ground was oh-so-unfathomably many meters below. This was pretty much it - fall and probably die, or stay there and most definitely die. The crowd slowly stopped cheering, and fell silent.

And then all of a sudden, and not a moment too soon, he had another idea. It was as insane as the one he'd already just had, maybe not quite as potentially lethal, but if he was going to go, then he was going to go in a blaze of glory.

He looked back at Alan who had stopped prowling and now stood watching him. He stared at the onyx face-shield of the helmet, locking eyes with where he was pretty certain Alan's eyes would be, hoping against hope that somehow this one last look would reach his friend, if his friend was still in there somewhere. He didn't say a word ..._ because, how do you say goodbye after three decades of being as close as brothers?...there aren't any words, and if it really was Alan in there, then even aside from the present situation, words weren't needed anyway. _So Kevin just gave him one slow nod, a hint of sadness in his eyes, and the beginnings of a peaceful, resigned smile on his lips.

Then he reached to the pocket on his leg-armor, grabbed the baton, held it firmly in both hands, and dove right out the gaping hole, clicking the baton open to activate the light-cycle as he launched himself arcing through the air amidst one solid gasp which rose in unison from the crowd.


	27. Chapter 27

_Approximately 27 microcycles earlier...

* * *

_

Clu sat leaning back in his chair, still recuperating from the reboot as his pixels slowly knitted themselves back to ordinance. It was not a pleasant sensation, but it was far preferable to the searing unprecedented pain of having had nearly half his side de-rezzed by a light-staff. During the down-time, his rage at Jarvis and at the current state of the situation had begun to cool from molten lividity to the beginnings of steel resolve, and so he took the remainder of this down-time to reflect, as well as to calculate, a subroutine at which he was particularly skilled.

It had been 10.4 microcycles since Kevin Flynn and Alan Bradley were taken, after which he'd been viciously subdued by his own guards at the behest of his traitorous former aide. He mused briefly, thinking of how Kevin would have preferred to convert that time passage from microcycles to User-world minutes.  
_...much can happen in five minutes, obviously..._

It had been 45.76 microcycles - roughly 22 minutes - since Alan had arrived at the mezzanine deck in the elevator, and an indeterminate passage of time preceding that during which he'd been rezzed here and suited up in Rinzler's armor. By Clu's reckonings and estimations, this meant they most likely had roughly 873.6 microcycles left to locate and reach the portal before it closed again. Or, just over seven hours in User-world time. This didn't bode well, considering that right now he was being held a prisoner by his own former command, as were Kevin and Alan, who right now were being taken by force to the game arena. It was going to take a very fortuitous unfolding of events in order for them to reach their goal. Or as Kevin would call it, a miracle.  
_...much can happen in seven hours, hopefully... _

He gathered from Jarvis' haughty proclamations that apparently there was now a new elite in charge of the Grid as well as the city, and likely the entire system too, and it was a compendium whose formidable power had already been demonstrated here and as far outland as Kevin's safehouse, but whose identity and agenda remained to be discerned. Yet they were still demonstrating their power in a most punitive manner, and not just towards him, but towards Tron, and most definitely towards Kevin and Alan. After Jarvis' provocative departing statement, Clu wasn't certain just what the new elite planned to do with the Creator and his User friend, but he had an ominous feeling more would be revealed very soon, judging from the increase in the fevered crowd noise from the arena. The games were soon to begin.

He glanced up at the observation deck view-port, where Tron still stood staring out at the arena with a tension and uneasiness which were visible in his stance and in his clenched jaw. He couldn't quite guess what the program was thinking, but he could imagine it was along the same lines as the questions fettering his own mind.

Then oddly, Tron spoke just then, without turning to look at him. _"There are still...many gaps,...in my memories..."_

Clu knew Tron was referring to Rinzler. He nodded slowly, with somber, repentant eyes, and then sighed. _"I wish that there were,...in mine." _

And he meant it.  
In fact, never more than now had he wished that Kevin Flynn hadn't programmed him with the ability to assimilate User-like emotions to begin with, and that his Creator had instead given him more of an understanding of how to handle User-like situations such as this. But when several nanos went by and Tron did not speak again, simply staring out at the game arena instead, Clu decided this might be one of those times when he should simply "be", and allow some things to remain unspoken, and so he slowly let his gaze wander back down to the floor, garnering what peace he could, and focusing his thoughts again. He wondered if Kevin would have been proud of him for that.

Suddenly he spotted something laying on the simulated carpet beside his chair. It was the small bit model, still laying inert just where he'd dropped it when Jarvis' mutinous takeover had gone from covert to hostile. He reached to pick it up, curling it protectively into his gloved fist, and noting the flourish of light along the amber strip which ran from wrist down his index finger. His circuitry had regained it's full glow, meaning the regeneration of his pixels and the restoration of his energy were both complete. Still holding the bit, he stood and slowly began to prowl around the anteroom, surveying it as he walked, his long amber-trimmed robe billowing slightly with each step.

He walked almost leisurely around the anteroom of the command center, clasping his hands behind his back, eying the unoccupied console desk where Jarvis usually sat. Casually running a gloved hand along it's circular rim, he could see from a glance at the monitors that none of the four posts were occupied by guards, nor was the entrance to the bridge, obviously, since Jarvis had departed with the sentries. And the operations room was empty as well. This meant he and Tron were the sole occupants aboard.  
_...hmm,...curious..._

Just then, a chime from the elevator roused him from thought, and he turned to see one of the sirens approaching, adorned not in the standard pure white suit but instead a black suit which was trimmed with red circuitry to match her high-swept tresses. With a vacant expression and perfunctory pleasant smile, she slowly sauntered gracefully over to him on impossibly-high heels, carrying a tray which was covered with a pristine simulated-silver lid. When she stopped to stand beside him, she raised the lid on the tray, revealing several small decanters of various liquid libations, and two glasses. Then she spoke in a soft sultry voice, with an ingratiating smile and a provocative gleam in her eyes.

"_Your Excellency,...would you care for some... refreshments?"_

Clu regarded her silently for a moment, simply tilting his head slightly, and raising an eyebrow. Her subtle, seductive posturing and double-entendre were not lost on him. They were, however, misplaced and completely futile. Aside from the fact that he didn't ever waste time biting at such frivolous bait to begin with, at present there were only four sentient beings he trusted right now...he was one of them, and she most definitely wasn't.

Nevertheless, he tilted his head again, pausing as though he were considering her offer before replying. When he finally spoke, his smile and slightly-flirtatious gaze matched her own, but behind his casual, almost cheerful drawl was ice-cold intent. _"...You know,...I really don't think so."_

And then the chill of that intent transferred to his eyes, as his tone of voice dropped just enough to make clear his point and instigate her swift departure with a third and final slight tilt of his head. _  
"You may take your...refreshments...and go elsewhere..."_

He turned on his heel, clasping his hands behind his back as he started to walk away, then paused after a couple of steps, suddenly recalling his captors' previous allusion to his being under their observation. He mused that they were perhaps expecting him to be on his most courteous behavior while held hostage, and that notion brought a sardonic wry grin to his face. He turned his head slightly to the side, speaking back over his shoulder with one raised eyebrow, adding with a smooth polite tone, _"...please."_

Without another word, the siren turned and walked back towards the elevator, boarding it a nano-cycle later, leaving him chuckling inwardly to himself as he heard the doors swoosh closed.  
_...just how stupid do they think I am?..._

There wasn't really time for him to contemplate that question, however, because just then the echoed voice of the announcer boomed over the P.A. System of the arena, the well-recognized words filtering in just enough for him to hear, _"Good evening, programs!..."_

Clu walked quickly back over towards the observation deck view-port, as Tron eyed him nervously. Then they both stared out at the arena, as the masses cheered in excitement and anticipation of the impending games.

During the echoed announcements, his eyes were suddenly drawn to the monitor over the view-port which illuminated suddenly to show the close-up view from within the disk arena pod. He watched with growing alarm as Kevin Flynn's face came into frame. To him, Kevin looked nervous, but that was only because Clu knew him so intricately...to the casual observer, for all outward appearances it might have seemed he was holding it together fairly well. But Clu knew differently. His gloved fists clenched in helpless anger as he watched his Creator reduced to pacing like a caged animal, trapped inside the high-gloss semi-transparent enclosure. When the announcer's voice introduced Kevin Flynn as Combatant One, the blood-thirsty crowd cheered frantically, which made Clu's fists clench even more tightly. Then he winced and opened his palm, staring down at the bit model which was still clutched in his hand.

Suddenly an all too familiar two-syllable staccato roar began to build from the arena crowd, along with a matching staccato rumble...they were chanting for Rinzler and stomping their feet. Clu stared back up at the monitor, then practically fell seated onto his chair, still eying the screen as Tron walked over to stand beside him. He stared at Tron, both of their faces grave, as sure enough the announcer introduced Rinzler as Combatant Two, and the crowd went wild with applause when the new re-purposed Rinzler appeared in the disk arena.

Clu stared with disbelief as the disc war began.  
_...what have they done to Alan?...  
...Kevin doesn't have a chance...why isn't he trying his User powers?... _

He almost couldn't look.  
And Tron definitely couldn't. He turned away from the monitor, walked over to the view-port, and then just stood with his head lowered, staring at the floor.

After a few gut-wrenching nano-cycles, Clu finally looked away from the screen, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed with righteous rage. He wasn't going to watch this happen to Kevin.  
And at that moment he hated - no, loathed – everything which the arena stood for, everything it had ever stood for under his reign, and every single program in the screaming, barbaric, boisterous crowd who found this carnage so entertaining. He stared at the floor, clutching the bit tightly in his fist, trying his best to tune out all the sounds which kept assaulting his hearing.

A crashing sound followed by a sudden hush from the crowd jolted his attention upward again to the monitor, and he saw that there was now a huge hole de-rezzed in the side of the disc arena enclosure. And there was Kevin, standing with a disk in his hand, looking out the opening.  
Clu stared almost quizzically at the screen, thinking back to Sam Flynn's very similar battle with Rinzler, and something akin to what Users call 'hope' began to generate itself in his thoughts.

But then his eyes widened when he saw what it looked like Kevin was about to do.  
Tron looked over at him from the window, an expression of shock on his face. Clu's eyes widened even more, and he stood up, making a dash to the view-port window...sure enough, there went Kevin, sailing right out of the huge hole in the disk arena, activating a light-cycle as he flew through the air while the whole crowd gasped at once.

Clu froze in disbelief.

Not once, ever, in all the history of the games, had any program tried this stunt before.  
Probably because it was suicidal. Or at least, most likely was. Especially with a light-cycle. Clu shook his head, trying not to calculate the odds of this outrageous stunt being guaranteed deresolution.  
_...Kevin,...why didn't you think of a light-jet instead?...  
...now would be a good time to try those User powers..._

Clu and Tron stood staring as the cycle let out a fiery ribbon of intense blue light behind it, while the front wheel slowly pitched downward during the fall.  
Even with the stunning visual effect of the flying light-trail, this didn't look good.  
The crowd knew it too, and had gone deathly silent, watching the light-cycle arc toward what looked like an inevitably-fatal collision with the unyielding floor of the game grid.

But then, something equally unprecedented and odds-defying happened, eliciting another round of shocked gasps from the crowd, as well as sending an intense wave of relief through Clu and Tron...

_...it was as though the floor of the grid had suddenly spawned a gale-force wind, as programs seated all along the floor level were pressed back in their seats, all trying to shield themselves from the blast of wind which had come from nowhere. The light cycle appeared to slow its descent in mid air, the front tire pitching upward slightly. Clu slowly smiled, watching as the rear tire of Kevin's light-cycle touched down first with a shower of blue-white sparks, then the front tire made impact. The cycle skidded wildly to the left as a ribbon of light came whipping around it, then skidded right, the light-ribbon following like a snake out behind, finally steadying its fierce path forward, and the entire shocked arena stood for a couple of nano-cycles before every single program hit their feet, cheering insanely._

Tron stared at Clu, both of them smiling incredulously, and then both of them let out an uncharacteristic and unabashed cheer of _**"YES!",**_ which would have filled Kevin with glee had he seen it.

But it wasn't over yet.

The light-cycle was circling around the grid floor, narrowly avoiding a collision with it's own light-ribbon, and then accelerating again...instead of heading for the miles-long stretch Kevin was doubling back and now driving impossibly fast towards the side-wall, heading straight for the floor-level entrance, as programs and sentries alike began scrambling to get out of the way of the gate.

Clu stared, not believing what it looked like Kevin was about to do, and a very Kevin-like expression tumbled forth involuntarily from his mouth. _"What the hell?...that's insane!"_

But as the cycle neared the gate, Kevin didn't plow through it – he pulled up the cycle's front end, ran over the containing rail, went airborne and jumped the gate entirely, touching down with illuminated tires screaming on the other side of it, then blazed his way right down the entrance hallway.

A cacophony of surprised voices rose from the crowd, and some still cheered.  
Others tried rushing to the various level exits to watch, only to be forced back to their seats and to order by the rapidly deploying sentries.  
Clu ran to the command center console to check the outer perimeter monitors, and had to laugh at what he saw...the place was sheer pandemonium, with sentries quickly herding programs away from the exits and back to their seats.  
Meanwhile Kevin was veering around to ride right through the mostly deserted first-level plaza, what few programs walked along it's sidewalls scurrying to get out of the way as he passed.  
Several sentries ran after him, one eventually rezzing it's light-cycle in pursuit.  
But that didn't stop Kevin or even slow him down.

Watching the events unfolding on the monitors, suddenly Clu knew what Kevin was going to do.  
And then he knew what he was going to do.  
If he acted now, it just might work.

He turned to Tron who had followed him over to the console, and shouted over the noisy din of chaos from the arena. _"Tron!...Sit down, and hang on!"_

Tron looked completely baffled, but he quickly found a seat along the side of the bridge's anteroom. Meanwhile Clu jumped over the edge of the circular command center console, sat down at the controls, and began to push buttons, the elevator chime sounding as he locked down the ground level access.  
The walls of the room began to emit a high-pitched whine, and Tron suddenly realized what Clu was doing, as another large missing piece of his memory's puzzle lurched back into place.  
_...this isn't just a mezzanine - it's a command ship!...  
...we're detaching from the arena!..._

Clu's hands flew over the controls, and the look on his face was pure focused determination as he eyed the monitor, watching Kevin's light-cycle careening it's way to the front entrance, and seeing that the enormous lighted entrance gates had begun close. Clu quickly and furiously slammed his hand down on the override control, then exhaled in relief to realize it still worked from this console.  
Apparently the new elite hadn't expected him to try this?  
Sure enough, the gate's light-fields halted their descent halfway, then diffused altogether, leaving the entrance wide open again.  
And a couple of nanos later, Kevin's light-cycle went blasting out of them, now with four sentry light-cycles in fast pursuit.

Clu smiled triumphantly, as his command ship detached, arcing around and then taking off at a furious pace towards his Kevin's light-cycle. He honed in to a hover position, hoping Kevin would realize this was his ship, and his voice sounded so eerily like his Creator's as he smiled, tracking close behind.

_"Hang on buddy,...it's me...we're comin' to get ya'..."_ He glanced over at Tron who was hanging on to his seat, _"...then we'll figure out how to come back and get Alan."_


	28. Chapter 28

The Ducati idled at the traffic light, as a booted foot tapped impatiently on the asphalt.

Beneath the helmet's face-shield, Sam Flynn smiled to himself, still recalling Quorra's words from a few moments earlier. Just after they'd left the arcade on the way to ENCOM, she'd suddenly tapped on his shoulder and surprised him by asking, _"I'm a little tired,...can you take me home first?" _It was an ordinary question, really, and he didn't know why it made him smile so to think of it again just now. Unless it was the "home" part...it was the first time she'd used the word, and to him it meant that in the past few days since arriving in the strange new User world, she'd come to think of his completely unconventional boxcar of an apartment as the place where she felt safe, comfortable, relaxed. As home. And it was good, hearing her call it that.

She was there now resting, which he also thought was good, especially considering how difficult as sleep had been for her since her arrival here from the Grid. She would be there napping while he was gone, and she would be there waiting for him when he got back, and he liked that.

He sighed, still waiting for the light to change.  
As he thought about it, maybe there was something more to it, his liking her asking him to take her 'home'...he'd never really considered the place his "home" before, at least not in the full context of the word. In fact he hadn't even really used the word much at all since 1989, because since then, no place had felt like home to him, and no place had really had the potential to. Until now.

The light changed to green, and he rolled the throttle, accelerating forward into the turn lane for the freeway access road. Glancing across at the Ralph's on the corner as he passed, he made a mental note to stop there on the way back and get Quorra some of the little peanut butter cookies she'd liked so well, the ones they'd gotten from the vending machine outside the cellular store this morning. She'd devoured them rather quickly, buoyantly happy to have found a food in the User world which she recognized as one of her favorites from the grid. He chuckled again, thinking about it...Quorra was the only other person he'd ever known who adored peanut butter as much as his dad. And why didn't that surprise him?

He smiled again to himself, as he accelerated into the carpool lane. Absolutely he'd stop on the way back and get some of the little cookies for her, as well as her own jar of peanut butter too. They needed a few groceries anyway. It was odd, to think of himself suddenly wanting to buy groceries instead of just ordering take-out, but it was no more odd than finding himself thinking there could finally be a place called home again, even in a world without Kevin Flynn in it.

* * *

The ENCOM parking structure looked relatively empty, and the security guard wasn't at the post, so Sam drove the bike right past the automated gate arm, continuing on into the first level. Passing down the row of empty parking spots, he saw the one whose sign-marker read, "Bradley, Alan - Chairman Emeritus". A few spaces down from that was the spot for" Hardington, Kurt - CEO." Twenty one years ago, that sign had his father's name on it instead. And soon, it would most likely read, "Flynn, Sam - CEO". Much had changed, indeed.

Sam parked the bike in the motorcycle spaces near the elevators, and took off his helmet.  
As he walked, in his head he was playing the "what if/then" game again,...a game which had never really gotten him anywhere in the past except to stir his resentments, or lately in the present, to stir his grief. Yet he played it anyway...  
What if...his dad could have found a way out of the Grid, instead of the way it had all played out?  
Then...he would have his dad with him right now.  
Accepting things had never been one of Sam's strong points. That was why he'd gotten so good at playing the "what if/then" game in his head to begin with, as pointless as it was.

He'd tried a version of that same game in his head while in the Grid – the "why/then" game - and he'd even voiced it to Kevin as they'd stood aboard the Solar Sailer  
… _"why didn't you ever just re-write the code or find some way to over-ride all this, some password or something, then-..."_  
But Kevin hadn't allowed the statement to get much further into the 'then' before interrupting, his eyes serious though his voice was gentle, _"Sam,..if there was some magic word, some...secret code, some grand revelation,...something- anything...which would have stopped all this and given me my freedom back,...don't you think I would have said it?..don't you think I would have done it?..."_

Then seeing his son's frustrated silence, Kevin had continued, _"...son,...it isn't easy to come to terms with, and...and it's not fair at all, but,...there are some things in the-...in this world,...that happen to you and you just can't write, talk, reason or even fight your way out of 'em,...no matter what...because it wasn't your fight to start with. This has kinda' been one of those things."  
_  
And Sam had looked at him, not meaning for his words to sound as judgmental as they probably did, _"So you just gave up, then?..."  
_  
But Kevin had taken no offense. He'd just offered a soft wry smile, nodded, then said matter-of-factly, in a soft wistful voice, _"I had no other choice. Not until you showed up."  
_

Sam sighed, stepping aboard the elevator, absently touching the small casement which hung on his necklace.  
At least he had a choice, whereas his father hadn't until it was too late.  
Whatever corruption had led to his father's years of entrapment and eventual demise in the Grid, if he was soon to become the new CEO of ENCOM Sam might be in the optimal position to try to get to the bottom of it, and hopefully someday, to stop it.

The elevator doors opened and Sam stepped out, walking to the door and sliding his employee pass-card through the lock mechanism. A few seconds later, he was headed down the hall to Alan's office. He hoped he'd find him sitting at his desk.

Instead, Sam found a closed door, and the lights were off.  
Glancing through the small window beside the door he could see that the desk was unoccupied.  
He sighed, walking back towards the elevators, before stopping, then plopping into a chair at the waiting area beside the floor receptionist's desk.  
He sat there a moment thinking, then retrieved his cell from his jacket pocket, and sat scrolling through the photos. There was the one of the tow-truck, with the tow company's name and number clearly visible on the back window of the cab.  
He dialed the number and waited.

The conversation was rather short, and the answers he got didn't tell him anything he didn't already know.  
_Yes, theres' a silver 2009 Maxima here.  
Yes, that's the license plate.  
No, the owner hasn't called in yet.  
Yes, we're open all day Saturday.  
No, only the registered owner of a vehicle can pick it up. Sorry._

Sam sighed as he disconnected the call.

Well, back to square one.

He tried Alan's cell again. Which was pointless. This time the message said the voice-mail box was full.  
He tried Alan's home number again. The answering machine picked up, but he didn't leave a message.

Something about this was really gnawing at him now. This was not like Alan.  
His mind sifted through all sorts of elaborate possibilities and scenarios, and then he chastised himself.  
_...stop it...  
...stop being ridiculous..._  
The part of him that was being ridiculous wanted to argue the point that he'd harbored secret fears of this very thing happening, for a long time, like, for twenty one years, ever since his father had inexplicably disappeared without a trace.

He walked down the hall and stood by Alan's door. He reached for his wallet, flipping through it until he located the old access card, then stared at it, arguing with himself in his thoughts again.

_...he said this was for in the event of an emergency...  
...yeah...is this really an emergency?...come on...  
...I don't know...that's what I'm trying to find out...  
...a shrink would say you have abandonment issues...  
...huh, among other things...  
...yeah?...well,...I come by them honestly...  
...is he gonna be pissed?...  
...yeah, probably. I would be...  
...but you know what?..too bad...something's not right here..._

He settled the inner debate by taking action. He slid the card through the magnetic lock, opened the door, and walked in, closing the door behind him.

The office was impeccably tidy, which didn't surprise him.  
The computer was turned off, and a dust cover protected the keyboard.  
Nothing at all seemed out of place.  
He stood staring down at the in-box, where a stack of papers lay neatly arranged, the top-most one being the press-release for the Flynn/ENCOM OS12 freeware promotional.  
Then he sat down at the desk, staring at the desk-pad calendar which took up a good portion of the desktop. He'd always found it ironic - for a former COO of the world's largest software company and a forerunner in the digital age, Alan sure had ways of doing things the old-fashioned way...he wrote notes down by hand, used a plain desk-pad calendar to keep his appointments, and still carried a pager from the 1980's.

Sam sat down at the desk, and sighed, staring at the calendar.  
Aside from a few meetings, a dental appointment, and some dry-cleaning to drop off, the week's date squares were pretty much empty. At the top of the empty Friday square Alan had jotted "Sam/dinner". On today's square he hadn't written anything.

He sat there another few seconds, then glanced at the telephone. The number "2" flashed on the small digital LED screen, which meant Alan had two messages waiting for him.

_...no,...you're not going to...  
...because it's none of your business...that's why..._

_...well,...  
...wonder who he called last?...  
...that's none of your business either..._

He stood up, and was about to turn and leave when curiosity got the better of him.  
He picked up the receiver, and surveyed the different buttons on the keypad until he found "redial".  
Feeling more than a tad guilty, he hit the button, glancing quickly over at the window beside the door as he placed the receiver to his ear, just in time to hear a tri-tonal beep on the other end of the line, followed by a pre-recorded voice : "W_e're sorry,...you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service...please check the number and try your call again..."_.

He sighed, placing the receiver back in it's cradle, then he walked back across the office, the heavy door pulling itself shut and locking behind him as he left. Heading down the hall, his thoughts were already yammering away at him.

_...see?...this was pointless...  
...and hitting redial...dude that's just nosey...  
...had to try...  
...where the hell is he?...  
...and why'd he leave his car at the arcade?...  
...now I guess I'm driving all the way out to his house...  
...yeah, or...you could just stop being ridiculous and wait for him to call you back ...  
...funny,...too bad I don't have the pager number...  
_

He gave a huff in frustration, then sighed. He'd gotten as far as the elevator when the thoughts finally came full-circle.

_Redial. Disconnected. Arcade. Pager._

He turned around and walked quickly right back down the hall to Alan's door, and this time his nagging thoughts didn't have a say in the matter. The card was right back out of his wallet, and then he was right back at Alan's desk pressing the redial button.

When he saw the number, something in him froze.

A half-second later he was out the door.  
Less than a minute later he was zooming the bike out of the parking deck on the way to the arcade.


	29. Chapter 29

On the floor of the operations room sat Kevin, where he'd fallen in an exhausted heap after they'd whisked him from the cycle chase and transported him up onto the ship. Tron was still crouched beside him, inspecting the damaged casing of his light baton...it was partially derezzed on the side, where the blast from an apparent prankster bit had hit it, narrowly missing Kevin's hand in the process.

Clu walked quickly back through the corridor from the bridge to the operations room, his brow furrowed in thought. He spoke just as Tron looked up from repairing the light baton.

_"That was too easy. Far too easy."_

Kevin glanced up, rubbing the muscles in his shoulder and craning his neck to stretch it. He stretched his legs out in front of him, winced, then squinted his eyes. _  
_

_"Yeah?...speak for yourself, man,...that's one hell of a tractor beam. I feel like a Slinky that got pulled outta shape." _

Tron looked mildly puzzled at the comment, but Clu didn't even seem to hear or register it. Instead he still paced back and forth, arms crossed, his mind still calculating. He was trying to discern just why it was, after an initial round of interception fire from the sentries, they'd all then just suddenly backed off, and his ship had been allowed to lift easily past the arena area, transiting away with no further interference. If he was supposedly removed of his command, then this did not make sense. And he certainly had never sanctioned any such sort of protocol in his army,...under his command the sentries were always ordered to fire at will until the target was either de-rezzed or taken captive.

He paced the floor a few more nanocycles, then suddenly stopped abruptly to stand near Kevin, finally jolted out of his train of thought. He quirked his head, still with a serious expression, but one eyebrow lifted.

"_What..is a slinky?"_

Kevin looked up at Clu, then broke into a grin, not having expected him to ask such a question.

"_...oh,...well,...it's...it's...like a spring,...you know?...it's-...you can walk it down stuff,...like stairs,...or boards, boxes,...it's a gravity thing,..."_

He grinned at the memory, pantomiming his hands in the air, turning them one over the other. "..._it's a kid's toy-...well, had one on my desk when I was about thirty,...yeah,...ha, got that one all the way down the steps at the arcade once,... and-" _

He paused and laughed aloud, just then looking up to notice that both Clu and Tron still stared at him quizzically with blank expressions. He sighed, and shrugged. _"...you know what?...never mind."_

Clu tilted his head, noting how Kevin still stretched his neck gingerly. _"Are you injured?"_

Kevin shook his head, yawned and leaned back, resting his elbows on the floor behind him with a sigh.

_"No...man, I'll be fine. Just,...a little sore, and, tired as hell. I don't pull stunts like that too often...at least,...not anymore..."_ He chuckled. Then releasing his weight off of his elbows he laid fully back to stretch out on the floor, closing his eyes and sighing._ "...I could have a nap right here...'s pretty comfortable actually..."_

Suddenly his eyes opened and he flinched when he felt an arm reaching beneath his knees and another arm lifting his back, then he stared in mute surprise as Tron scooped him up with both arms, carrying him over to the row of cushioned bench seating which spanned one wall of the operations room and depositing him carefully to lay across the seats.

"_Uh...thanks,...man,..."_ Kevin settled in to the cushions, resting his arms behind his head, still feeling a bit awkward.

Tron just gave a nod and a slight smile. _"You're welcome."_ And then he turned, walked over to stand beside Clu, nodding in Kevin's direction.

_"If you believe we're out of imminent danger, perhaps he could rest there for a while..."_ Tron paused, looking off to the side somewhat sadly, _"...and then we can discuss how to recover Alan-1 from the arena."_

Clu just nodded slowly in reply, arms still crossed, bringing one hand to rest under his chin. Tron looked at him a moment, noting that he was obviously still deep in thought, and so Tron dismissed himself, walking across to the corridor, on his way to the observation deck. He would keep watch, and leave Clu undisturbed to do what he did best...analyze, and strategize.

After a few steps, Tron paused, glancing across at the view-port. Then he turned back towards Clu.

"_Where exactly are we?..."_

Clu didn't turn around. His voice was half-distracted when he replied after a pause, _"...on the roof of the arcade building. Among a few other places, this ship was designed to be able to dock here, and to appear relatively indistinguishable from the architecture,... at least, at first glance."_

Tron seemed mildly surprised. Unless it was one of the things he'd once known as Rinzler and then forgotten, this was news to him. But then again so much was, apparently. He nodded, silently turning back towards the corridor, soon disappearing into the bridge deck to keep watch from the viewports.

* * *

Los Angeles

Once he got the key to work in the stubborn lock, Sam jerked open the door and flipped on the arcade lights, moving with long strides across the dusty carpet. His heart was racing, and the dread slowly creeping into him was mounting with every step towards the Tron game machine.

This time he didn't bother trying to descend the precariously-narrow steps in rigid motorcycle boots. Instead he gripped the bannisters on either side and lifted his feet, the cloth palms of his gloves providing welcome nonresistance as he slid right down the stairwell and hopped to the floor below.  
For an instant, he wondered how many times his dad had done that same thing in a hurry to get down these stairs.

Two steps into the lab and already his heart had jumped into his throat...the lights were on, and so was the computer...but what froze him in his tracks was the sight of the overturned chair which lay sideways on the floor, and the small rectangular device which lay a few inches across from it... Alan's pager.

A wave of realization hit him full force, along with powerless anger and frustration, and he whirled around, smacking the palm of his glove into the rail of the metal shelving so hard it stung his hand and made the shelving shimmy, sending a few dust-coated papers wafting haplessly to the floor.

"_Damn it!" _He turned back around and exhaled, then stared at the monitor. Then he lowered his head, staring at the floor, his worst fears starting to materialize in easy order within his thoughts.

He walked with leaden feet a few steps closer to the desk, then stared down at the pager, bent to pick it up. At the press of a button, there on the display was the number to the arcade, and he sighed, running a frustrated hand through his close-cropped hair.

_...damn it,...Alan!...why'd you do this?..._

_...no- ...how'd you do this?..._

He bent down to right the overturned chair, then just dropped the pager into the seat with another sigh, his thoughts turning endless circles as he stared back at the monitor.

He leaned a hand on the table, then stared at the array of words on the screen.

CODE SERIES LSU-123... ACTIVATE

INITIALIZING... 100% COMPLETE

Mag 10X MODE: LOCK  
MCP CNTRL TARGET  
ACTIVE INPT LOCK ON  
SERVO CNTR  
GRID MATRIX  
LOG DATA  
GDNCE INPT  
STRGE CLRD FRG MNTR  
KCW CNTRL  
THERMO TRGT

ACTIVATE...

100% COMPLETE

SCAN ACCEPTED**_**

And the blinking cursor beside the word 'accepted' just sat there, mocking him.  
An empty, blank, underscore which said so much with its persistent flashing. It might as well have been repeating, _'I have taken your entire family now'_, over and over.

He sighed, tapping a finger on the desk. After a few idle seconds he realized he was tapping out 's-o-s' in Morse code, and then he exhaled with a grim sardonic huff.  
_...as if that would do any good...  
...anyone who could've helped or would even believe me has now been sucked into the Grid..._

Well, that is, anyone but Quorra.  
Together they'd have to somehow figure out what to do next.

He sighed again, and hit "enter" on the keyboard, preparing to type a command which would shut down the computer.  
And then the screen sprang to life again with words scrolling down it.

CODE SERIES LSU-123... ACTIVATE

He stared at the words, confused. He hadn't done anything at all, except to hit 'enter'. What was going on?

INITIALIZING...23%

When the percentage reached 63% and then rapidly accelerated up through to the 80's he realized full well what was happening. Somehow the system was looped and had simply reset itself.  
He whirled around, and stared at the laser, then back at the screen...93%

And then he literally jumped back as fast as he could, vaulting himself to land with his back flat against the far wall, screwing his eyes shut tightly just as the bright light seared a path across the room in front of him. He stood there panting, fully expecting to be zapped into the grid once he opened his eyes.

Instead, when he opened his eyes, the room was quiet and dimly lit again. Nothing was different, except, now the chair was gone, along with the pager which had been in its seat.  
He stared at the monitor screen. Even without walking over to it, he already knew it would read "SCAN ACCEPTED" with that infernal blinking cursor next to it.

He sighed and looked down, swearing under his breath.  
This was great.  
He'd just sent a chair, and Alan's pager, to the Grid.

He took a step towards the table, then stopped, his boot making an abrupt squeak against the tile floor.

_...you know what?...I'm not goin' near that thing..._

Instead he turned and panned his vision around the room, squinting in the dim light. There in the far corner of the wall behind the laser was the main breaker box which powered the building.  
He stared at the laser. Of course he would have to walk past it to get to the box.  
He moved stealthily along with his back to the wall, staring at the barrel of the laser and keeping out of it's path.

Suddenly he felt like a six year old again, trying to inch out to the hallway to his dad's room after a nightmare, while also trying not to wake the monster who lived under his bed.

_...yeah this is stupid...just go turn the damn thing off..._

But he still didn't step in front of the laser.  
Instead he lurched forward, stepping quickly around behind it, and reaching to the box.  
Then he hesitated, realizing he'd be in utter pitch black darkness once he threw that switch.  
Cursing under his breath, he reached into his pocket, retrieving his cell phone and activating its lighted screen.  
And then he pulled the heavy switch down with a hard click as all the lights extinguished except the one steadily shining from his cell screen.  
The computer was off, and so was that infuriating monitor. The whole place seemed eerily quiet without the steady hum of machines as an audial backdrop.

He turned and quickly maneuvered himself back around the wall, using his cell as a flashlight. In the dark, the laser looked like the barrel of a stilled cannon.  
_...take that, you son of a -..._

He stopped his thoughts, again feeling like a child for being so creeped out by the thing.  
But that didn't stop him from racing past it and up the stairs as fast as he could.

Not even a minute later, he'd locked the door and was getting on his bike. Now to make it back, tell Quorra, figure out what to do. He wasn't even going to know where to start.


	30. Chapter 30

To him, the cell looked like something out of _2001: A Space Odyssey_...one fairly large ultramodern room with black walls, a white luminous tile floor, and strange geometric furniture which really was little more than a series of transparent cubes ... one for seating, a taller one for a table, and a several wide ones which sat low to the floor and grouped so as to form a big rectangle. That one he supposed was his bed - not that he could even imagine trying to sleep at this very moment. His ears roared, his body ached all over, and, he couldn't quite recall what had happened before he'd woken up very disoriented on the lighted floor of this very odd room, perhaps a half hour ago.

What had given it away as a cell, aside from its emptiness and lack of decor, was the distinct lack of windows or doors.  
And the odd sense of being watched, which he really couldn't explain.  
Even more odd and unexplainable, was that after a few moments of pacing the room he'd become aware of being hungry, and no sooner had he had the thought than one of the panels slid open and a sentry stepped in with a tray. He'd stared in confusion as the sentry had left the same way it came in, and then he'd examined the panel, which had closed to re-form flush and nearly seamlessly with the rest of the tiles in the wall.

Alan approached the table, and stared down at what the sentry had brought him, finding it odd indeed that on the tray, along with a luminous blue water-like substance, was a plate full of one of his favorite comfort-foods. Pizza.

_...how did they know that?...  
...in fact, how did they know I was even hungry?..._

The pizza looked perfectly edible, and very realistic. He supposed Kevin would call it a "digitization".  
Something about that still just seemed otherworldly to him, something that shouldn't even be possible, or even if it was, shouldn't be natural enough to eat. But he really was famished, so, he took a small bite. And much to his surprise, it was as delicious and real as any pizza he'd ever eaten. Soon he'd devoured the entire plate full, and drank all of the blue water. Then he sat down on one of the cubes, trying to remember something, anything, which would give him some clue as to where he was, and why.

The last thing he remembered was being roughly shoved into an elevator by sentries, after they'd marched in and taken him and Kevin hostage in front of Clu and Tron. A few seconds later, the elevator doors had opened again and he'd been ushered out into a hallway by the two guards who held his arms, leaving Kevin still in the elevator.

The very next thing he recalled, was waking up on the floor of this room.

He was fairly sure it had been a very rough sleep, because every muscle in his body hurt, and his ears rang as though he'd just come from a very loud rock concert. However, having eaten, he noticed his body seemed to hurt a bit less now than in had when he'd first awakened, and the ringing in his ears had become less noticeable too.

He shuffled slowly over to the rectangular group of modular cubes and sat down, scanning a glance around the room once more.

_...it would be really nice to know where the hell I am...  
..and if this is some kind of cell, it would be really nice to know just what I did to get put in here...you know...just so I can tell my friends what this really bizarre dream was about..._

He gave a sigh, then a sad smirk as he looked down at the illuminated floor.

_...who am I kidding?...my friends are having this same really bizarre dream...  
...we're in the Grid...somewhere..._

Just then he jumped and nearly fell off the side of the rectangular platform, startled when the panel across the room once again slid open suddenly.  
Into the room stepped not one but two sentries. Then, a third man entered the room behind them, one that Alan recognized all too well. Jarvis strode quickly over to stand beside the platform, as Alan sat staring up at him, and he spoke in a voice which sounded clipped and emotionless, but on his face was the hint of a condescending sneer.

"_Of course you're aware, this is not...'a dream',... as you call it..."  
_

Alan's jaw dropped at hearing his thoughts almost immediately recited back to him.  
He stared, watching as Jarvis waved a hand, after which one of the sentries went to collect the tray from the table, while the other sentry walked to stand beside him. Then clasping his hands behind his back, jarvis began to slowly pace back and forth, casually glancing around the barren room as the glare from the flooring reflected softly across his transparent visor. After a few seconds, he stopped pacing, then regarded Alan with a slight gleam of contempt in his eyes.

"_No one asked you to come here - to our city,..."_ he paused, the gleam in his eyes turning to one of avarice, _"...but,... since you've chosen to, we think you'll be quite useful to us. And, you are correct – this...'cell'...is where you will now remain. Until we require you for the games." _

Jarvis gave a callous half-chuckle, then turned crisply to walk away. Processing the words he'd just heard, Alan's eyes widened in confusion, then narrowed to anger, and he started to stand, until the nearby sentry moved a step closer to him, it's grasp on the light-staff a menacing reminder of what had happened to Clu. Alan sat back down, glaring as Jarvis walked across the room, and when the sentry turned and followed he finally spoke.

"_What 'games'?...what are you talking about?...and what have you done with Kevin Flynn?"_

With his back still turned, Jarvis ignored Alan's questions completely and simply kept walking, stepping through the doorway which opened in the wall of the cell as he approached it. The two sentries followed, turning to glance at their prisoner who was still seated across the room, then continued through the open doorway, following Jarvis. A second later, the doorway disappeared as the panels slid closed again, leaving only the same seemingly-impenetrable wall.

Once again alone in the room, Alan's thoughts churned. He'd already been suffering from a great deal of disorientation, and this visit from Jarvis had left him reeling from it even more. Absolutely none of this made sense, except for the fact that this haughty former assistant of Clu's seemed somehow able to read his mind. That much he'd ascertained. And, as though that in and of itself were not bizarre enough, now he was apparently a prisoner here, being kept in solitary confinement for some sort of upcoming games. He had no idea where Flynn was, how to get out of here, or really even where 'here' was in terms of the Grid. And he wasn't even sure he wanted to know what 'the games' were.

After a few more seconds, he finally just laid back on the rectangle, stretching out his weary body, quickly realizing he was not only disoriented and utterly confused, but exhausted as well. He tried to force his mind to think logically about what he should do or even could do at this point, but within a few seconds, his exhaustion won out over his confusion, and sleep quickly overtook him once again.

* * *

Kevin slept peacefully, stretched out along the cushioned benches which lined the wall of the ship's operations room.  
Tron still stood at the observation deck view-port.  
And Clu still paced the floors, slowly meandering back and forth between the bridge deck and the the operations room, his mind working overtime in search of a plan.

By his calculations, they now had approximately 844 micro-cycles left to reach the portal, or in User time, about six and a half hours.  
What was perplexing to him, was how they were going to reach the portal if they couldn't even locate it. From the roof of the arcade simulation, they could see much of the Grid, enough to surely spot a huge tower of brilliant light extending into the sky, and yet, for as far as he and Tron could see from the observation deck view-port, there seemed to be no portal. Which didn't make sense ... there was a User on the grid, so there should be a portal.

The sound of soft snoring distracted him from thought, and Clu looked across the room to see that Kevin had turned to lay upon his side and was quite soundly in sleep-mode. Clearly his Creator was exhausted and Clu knew it was best to let him sleep, at least for a few more micro-cycles, because Users needed rest, whereas programs did not, at least, not nearly as often. He wished for nothing more than to somehow find a solution to their problems by the time Kevin awoke, but, he wasn't making very much progress with that.

Suddenly all the lights in the operations room extinguished, and Clu felt a sudden heaviness, as though all of his energy had been completely drained at once.  
Then he was falling, circuits darkened and his vision blackening to match, as he fell to his knees on the floor.  
But then ... just as suddenly, the lighting in the room returned with a flicker and then remained steady, as did the circuit lights on his suit. There was a momentary feeling of confusion as his systems rebooted, and slowly his vision resolved again. After a few nanos, he finally regained his balance enough to slowly stand, then looked up to see Tron starting unsteadily down the corridor, bracing himself with a hand against the walls as he went.

"_**What was THAT?**"_ Clu's voice rang out loudly in the room, sounding distant and muffled in his ears which were still in the process of rebooting. Tron couldn't hear him yet, and just looked at him, shaking his head.

But Kevin heard him, jolted to a sitting position from a sound sleep. _"What was what?...what'd I miss?..."_

Clu turned to stare at him with a baffled look, as Tron slowly approached from the corridor. _"The power, - all of it – just,...left,...completely...and then came back." _

Clu stared down at his circuitry, then whirled around to look at the command center console, where lights were flashing as the system rebooted itself. He took a step towards it on his still-stabilizing legs and then nearly fell, reaching to catch himself with both arms on the edge of the console. Kevin flew to his feet, eying Clu with concern, then looked at Tron who was standing unsteadily at the corridor entrance. Tron spoke loudly, shaking his head as he spoke, seeming almost surprised by the sound of his own voice. _"...That...has... never happened before."_

Kevin stood looking from Tron to Clu, both of whom seemed to be recovering their bearings. Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath, still blinking himself fully awake as he pointed towards the corridor, _"What- you mean-...you mean in the ship?...or,...the-...the whole system?..."_

Tron looked at him, still bracing himself against the wall. _"I..am not sure...the whole system...I think." _

Kevin's eyes went wide, and he started down the corridor, breaking into a full run as he neared the bridge deck, then stopping as he caught sight of the cityscape which sprawled in a panorama beyond the view-port. Sure enough, all over the system, of as far as the eye could see, sectors were either springing to life in a flicker of light or glowing at half-intensity, in process of a reboot.

_...what does this mean?.._

_…a malfunction?...  
…something powered down the Grid?...if so,...  
...the only place to do that would be...from,..._

He stared hard at the floor, as though he were trying to stare right through the hull of the ship and straight down through the roof to the arcade below.  
He didn't like where his thoughts were headed.

_...but,...why?...Sam wouldn't do that - not the power backup too...  
...or, if so,...why bring it right back up again?..._

_...unless,..._

_...he shut it down, and...this-...this is...what, some other source of auxiliary power?..._

_...from where?..._

_...oh,... surely not._

His his thoughts trailed towards their natural conclusion, and now he really didn't like where they'd ended up. Running a hand through his hair again, he turned to see that Tron and Clu had slowly made their way down the corridor to join him in the bridge deck.

"_Hey guys,...I wanna' see something-...need to see something,...downstairs- in the arcade..." _

Clu looked at Kevin, brow knitting into a skeptical frown. _"Are you certain it's safe?..."_

Kevin shook his head slowly. _"No, man,...I'm not certain of much right now...but, I need to get at that mainframe interface..."_

Tron suddenly interrupted them, pointing at the view-port window. _"LOOK!..."_

There in the distance of the city skyline, was a brilliant beam of light, so bright it lit up most of the structures around it as it cut a clear blazing white path up through the clouds. Kevin stared, almost mesmerized, shaking his head. _"The portal...it's back, and it's-...right where it should be..."_

Clu and Tron stared at it as well. Then Clu looked at Kevin with hopeful eyes.

"_This ship,...can get to the portal in just a few micro-cycles, from here. You could go back to your world..." _ he stopped, pausing a long time as he looked at Kevin, eyes growing intense and with a hint of sadness lurking in them. Then he finally continued, _"...would you take us with you?..."_

Kevin's eyes softened, and there was the hint of a wry smile at the corner of his mouth._ "Absolutely, Clu. You think...you think I'm gonna' just, what - leave you here?...no way. I'll take you both back with me,...but..."_

Kevin paused, his face growing more serious, _"...we're not leaving without Alan...we gotta' find him. But first,...we gotta get downstairs to that interface. There's something I need to know."_


	31. Chapter 31

Los Angeles

* * *

Sam opened the door to the arcade, and just by force of habit flipped the light switch. Of course nothing happened.

_...right, Sam..._

_...which is why you brought the flashlight...  
_

He sighed, reaching into his pocket for the flashlight, and realizing how very addled he must be to have just spaced-out like that. He wanted to admonish himself - he didn't let just anything get to him. Then again, this wasn't just anything...the Grid, which had taken years of his father's life and then ended it, had just developed some new sentience and had taken his father's closest friend.  
And, if he hadn't jumped out of the way of the laser, it would've taken him too. Again.

Just then Quorra stepped inside the doorway. _"Why are there no lights in here, Sam Flynn?"_

He turned, and sighed, with a wry smile. _"...it's all on the same power circuit...and,..." _he paused, locking the door behind her, _"...Quorra...you don't have to keep calling me Sam Flynn. Just Sam, is fine."_

She gave a small apologetic smile, a giggle, and a contrite look, and he couldn't help but smile himself.  
Until he looked back at the darkened Tron machine. Then his smile faded.  
Going into the basement now was going to be the pinnacle of creepy. But he had to. He almost wanted Quorra to wait up here, but then again, he didn't want to leave her alone.

He sighed, pulling the heavy, darkened machine back from the wall. He was making this more spooky than it had to be...he'd just need to disconnect the laser from it's power source, and then from the computer, and then he could turn the power back on. Nothing to worry about.

In the back of his mind, he couldn't help wondering what happened in the grid when the computer was off, and it occurred to him that he might have stopped to consider that before shutting off the breaker, but then again, the computer was off for 21 years, wasn't it?...  
...until he'd wandered in and turned it on?  
And then he'd left it on.  
At which point, he had to assume something had happened, something which had caused the entire Grid to change, apparently.  
Then again, was there even a Grid anymore?  
What if Alan had just digitized himself into a barren digital wasteland?

There were still so many things he didn't understand about all of this, so much more he needed to know.

_...well, no time like the present to start finding out..._

_...and stop worrying so much...there's no boogey man in the basement..._

It really was no big deal. He'd just disconnect the laser, restore the power, and then they could get out of here, go back home, think things over. After he took a few minutes to change the front-door lock.  
He still wasn't sure why it now seemed so important to change the lock, but for some reason he'd just gotten the idea on the way here, then just had to stop and buy a new lock-set.  
He figured any hunch which convinced him to go anywhere near a crowded Home Depot store on a Saturday had to be worth listening to.

The climb down the narrow stairs was every bit as precarious as he'd expected it would be, especially with only the beam of the flashlight to guide them. Once at the bottom of the steps, what caught his attention first was a distinct humming sound. Soft, barely perceptible, but, it was there, where it shouldn't have been. He should have been hearing only silence in the darkened room. This was one of those times he wished he didn't have such acute hearing.

On instinct, he turned to Quorra, and handed her his cell phone, the screen of which was already illuminated.

"_You stay right here, just for a bit – uh, for a while...ok?..."_

She didn't even get the bit reference. And though she seemed puzzled by his request, she didn't seem alarmed, and he was glad for that.  
Now he just had to face that damned laser in the dark, find the power supply cord, and unplug it. He hoped to God it wasn't hardwired into the breaker box or a sub-panel, because if so that was going to be a real problem. As for what the faint hum in the room was, he had no idea. Nothing in the room should be live with current, unless it was coming from outside somewhere, which was maybe possible. He dismissed that from his mind for the time being, and set to the task of crawling down under where the laser platform was.

Thankfully after only a few seconds of scuffling around on hands and knees with the flashlight, he located the main power cable of the laser...ironic, the laser sat amidst a snaking myriad of cable-harnesses, wires and heat-sinked bundles, yet just a simple 240 Volt/60 Hz line fed the thing, and it was plugged right into an appliance outlet on the wall.  
He found it kind of odd to think that basically the same amount of current which ran a refrigerator could send a human being to the Grid.

He glanced over at Quorra, who was being unusually quiet, leaning against the far wall by the stairs and staring attentively at the cell phone's screen.  
She was probably logging onto the web...something which he'd just showed her how to do that morning, and she'd taken to it with zeal. She'd especially liked the site she'd found bookmarked in his browser - FlynnLives. Upon first seeing it, tears had gathered in her eyes, and he'd had to look away quickly to avoid the same thing happening to him. He still wasn't sure how to someday tell them that no, Flynn doesn't live, not anymore. He had yet to even really come to terms with it himself.

He snapped back out of the sad thoughts, and looked down at the floor, following the beam of the flashlight across another cable which ran from a box that was connected to the laser. It occurred to him it might be a good idea to disconnect the thing from the computer too, and if the simplicity of the power-supply issue was any indication, it should just connect right to the back of the computer, probably on a parallel port.

He followed the cable all along the wall, around to the desk, then crawled under it, and froze, realizing that the soft hum he'd been hearing was much louder now. He shined the flashlight along at the baseboard far back behind the desk, and there he saw a large flat universal-power-supply box. That was where the faint hum was coming from...the power-supply unit was running on the backup battery, and had been since he'd cut the power off over an hour ago.  
_...must be one hell of a battery...  
__...well, that answers the question of the Grid and power..._

Glancing around behind the computer itself, he found the parallel port, and disconnected the cable from it. But then he spotted what looked oddly like a network cable. Sure enough it was, and he found it was connecting from the computer to a small dark gray box on the floor. He recognized the box instantly, but it couldn't have possibly been more out of place in this twenty-plus year old lab...it was a cable DSL router.

"_Son of a-"_ Sam raised up to sit back on his heels, immediately bumping his head on the desk because there wasn't enough headroom.

"_What is it?..."_ Quorra's voice rang out.

"_Uh,...nothing,...just...taking a look at things..." _

Sam's voice trailed off as he stared at the box, trying to fathom how this could have gotten there.  
These didn't exist when his dad had this lab. Nor did the internet, really, at least not as we know it today - in 1989 the advent of dial-up TCP/IP was barely in its infancy, and only organizations such as CERN or NASA had access to networking. Compared to them, ENCOM at the time was little more than a prodigy which held a lot of promise.  
So why would his dad have had access to any networking technology, especially ones which didn't even exist the last time he was ever physically in this lab?  
The only logical answer was, of course, that back then Kevin hadn't. But some one else had since.

There was no way that this was a good thing.

He started to disconnect the network cable, then hesitated, suddenly wondering if he could possibly be affecting the lives of millions of programs somewhere by disconnecting it. His visit to the Grid had completely changed the way he looked at computers. Then he shook off the wariness, replacing it with reason.

_...you know what?...no.  
...this was dad's private computer, and it's mine now...nobody else should be hooked in to it,...period..._

_...but what if it was Alan?...  
...no that's absurd...  
...Alan would've said something about this..._

_...and he wouldn't have allowed it...  
...he would've had this yanked out of here, pronto...if he'd known about it...  
...he didn't know._

Then Sam's thoughts turned to Alan again.  
It was bad enough to think of his guardian stuck in the Grid, or in whatever was left of the Grid now, but with this computer connected to the internet the potential perils increased a hundred-fold, if not infinitely. He didn't even want to think about what layers of cause-and-effect this could have possibly enacted in his dad's life on the Grid, depending on how long it had been here and why it was here.  
He unclipped the network cable, freeing it from the back of the computer. He couldn't decide whether to leave the router there or not, and thought of disconnecting it completely and taking it with him, but something told him not to. Maybe there was a way to work with this, and find out the answers. He had enough of his dad in him to try. He ran through a little cause-and-effect of his own.

_...somebody put this here...  
...and if they're paying attention they'll notice it's not connected anymore..._

_...maybe whoever put this here is gonna' try to come back...  
...or send someone else here...  
...once I change the lock they won't be able to get in..._

_...but if I play my cards right,...I'll have 'em on camera..._

He'd have to get busy on this immediately, and get a camera feed running, which might involve a trip to the electronics shop and some mastermind ingenuity unless there was a nearby security camera he could hack into, but he didn't think there was. The street was pretty desolate, and most of the buildings were empty and condemned.  
He certainly had his work cut out for him. But it was nothing he hadn't done before...the only difference was, now the stakes were higher.  
Now he really had to think things through carefully, because from here every step could affect Alan's life, his life, all their lives.

He thought a minute, then reconnected the network cable, crawled out from under the desk, dusted off his hands, then dusted off the legs of his jeans. A few steps to the power box, and he flipped the switch. Quorra looked up from the cell phone, and gave him a slight smile as the lights flickered on. He returned the smile, but his head was a morass of spinning troubles and concerns, none of which he knew how to begin to explain to her.  
And now a new one suddenly dawned on him, adding even more trouble to the mix – Quorra had a working cell phone in her hand, and was logged wirelessly into the internet there in the basement of Kevin's arcade.  
If for some reason somebody was paying attention, then thanks to the magic of GPS, they already knew the exact location.

He walked over to Quorra, then scratched his head, trying to act casual, trying to think of how to explain this without alarming her. He settled for not explaining it. There would be time to explain all of it later, once they were home. Right now he needed to do some fast footwork, and move their digital footprint.

"_Hey,...Quorra,...can I see that phone?...need to do something." _

She nodded and handed it back to him. She watched, fascinated as he pulled a small flat object from his jacket pocket, then a second later he had the phone's casing open and was pressing buttons on it, connecting it to the wire on the small object which he'd produced from his jacket pocket. Quorra looked up at him, puzzled.

"_...just, uh,.. taking precautions. Kinda complicated,...but I'll explain all this later, ok?..."_

She nodded at him again, then watched as he closed the cell phone's casing, stuck the small flat object next to it and wrapped the wire around them both, before placing it back into his jacket pocket. He gave her a grin, and a nervous shrug, then chuckled.

_"There. We're on our way to the beach..." _

When she raised her eyebrows expectantly, he chuckled again, knowing what she was going to ask.

"_...yeah. We'll go there later on. In fact that's a really good idea. But we 'got a few things to take care of here first, maybe a trip to the store too."_

Quorra smiled. She absolutely loved the beach when Sam had taken her there, and it was so far her very favorite place in the User world, aside from being at home with him and Marvin.  
The beach was sunny and warm, and the ocean was peaceful, very relaxing. She knew intuitively that Sam was under stress today, and it was understandable, which was why she was so quiet, but once he got to the beach and could relax then perhaps she would encourage him to explain to her how they were going to get Alan back from the Grid.  
And even if it turned out that they didn't talk much, just the thought of standing and watching the waves from the sea again thrilled her.

Though, the thought of going to the store was appealing too.  
Quorra liked stores, regardless of what kind they were. She liked to observe the Users who were shopping, and tried to imagine what made them want to buy the things they looked at on the shelves. She found that when she asked them, the answers were sometimes not at all what she would have expected, but then some of the Users looked at her funny when she asked them questions like that. At the grocery store, she had asked a User why he liked cans of sauces, as opposed to the glass jars where you could actually see the sauces within. Sam had laughed and gently chided her in a whisper as they'd walked along the aisle, _"Quorra, some people think that's being nosey."_  
She had crinkled her nose and laughed at his slang term, and she laughed again now at the memory.  
Then she turned her attention towards the dusty old shelves of the lab, content to peruse the papers, various objects and books there so that she didn't distract Sam while he was trying to work.

Meanwhile Sam leaned over and pressed the power button on the computer.  
Now that the laser was disconnected, he didn't have as much trepidation about booting up the system, but still as the old computer's hard drive whirred to life he felt uneasy, even if irrationally so.  
Because that laser was still there, right behind him.

_...Sam you're being ridiculous again..._

_...it's unplugged, man,... what's it gonna' do - re-animate supernaturally?...  
...get real..._

He sighed, turned around and stared at the laser.  
Looking around beside the shelves he spied an old white metal wastebasket.  
He grabbed the half-filled plastic liner out of the can, twisting the top of it closed and setting it on the floor, then picked up the metal can and stuck it right over the end of the laser.  
And then he chuckled to himself.

_...yeah,... ha, that'll work..._

_...even though I'm being ridiculous to start with..._

He leaned over the desk, and commenced typing a few commands on the keyboard. No scanning sequence started up on the screen, which was a relief. With a few seconds, he was trying a few more commands, then sat back in the chair.

_...that's what I thought..._

_...this is a newer operating system...no way it was on here when Dad last used this machine..._

A few more commands and he was pinging the router box, looking for end-point mappers and searching for nodes, something, anything which could tell him more.  
But there was nothing. The echo came right back empty-handed.  
It appeared the computer was connected to a dead network, which meant either whoever was on the other end of it didn't have their machine on or else had all kinds of firewalls and IP masks in place. He strongly suspected the latter.  
Then after a few more commands, he'd at least ascertained that the network was a LAN, but with no sign of wireless NIC present. Which made sense, since this machine predated those, and unless the machine had been heavily modded it would not have supported such a thing anyway.

He squatted down, reached behind the computer, and disconnected the network cable.

_...bye now...  
...thanks for dropping in..._

He sighed, stood up, looked at his watch. Mid-afternoon on a Saturday. Much to do, and not a lot of daylight left, plus he'd promised Quorra a trip to the beach. But if he got busy, he could have the lock changed and some sort of camera in place within a couple of hours.  
Then they'd just have to figure out what to do about Alan, and the Grid.

He started to turn off the computer, but the thought of Alan kept him from it. What if the power did somehow affect the Grid? With the battery-backup universal power supply he'd just found, that could indicate such. It didn't make sense, but, at this point what was having one more thing in the equation which didn't make sense?  
He was about to just turn around, get Quorra's attention and lead them upstairs, when suddenly something occurred to him..._the pager._  
He'd sent it through to the Grid, along with the chair. So reasonably it would still be sitting there in the Grid's version of this lab, right?  
What if Alan had found it?  
Assuming Alan was alright. Maybe he was still at the Grid's version of the arcade, and hadn't wandered out to the same mayhem he himself had encountered after leaving there.  
That was a long shot, but, maybe.

He thought for a moment, trying to remember the pager number.  
Then the only question was how to send it, and he had an idea about that.  
A few commands and he figured he'd found something. Usually without an internet connection this kind of thing was moot, but, since he was sending to a source which was actually within this computer, it just might work. It was all speculation in a brand new frontier to him anyway, but, worth a try.

Then he stood there wondering what number to send.

He shouldn't send the arcade number.  
Of course, he'd just send his cell phone number. Alan knew that.  
But, if Alan was alright, he was probably pretty freaked out, suspicious, wary,...and Sam thought maybe this was just his own paranoid mindset talking, but, if he had gotten a page from Alan's cell while in the Grid, he would have wanted to make damn sure it was really Alan sending it, not someone else simply phreaking the number from a computer...well, which was kind of basically what he was about to do right now.

Then it occurred to him...he'd send his cell number, along with a code or two...something Alan would recognize – at least, he hoped he would recognize it - something which would be uniquely Sam Flynn.  
He sent the first page with just his number, and then sent two more following that.

89.  
And 07734.

If Alan was there, and did get the page, he'd surely know what both those numbers meant.  
The 89 by itself could maybe be from a lot of folks, but, that number along with the other number sequence - Alan was the only other person besides Kevin Flynn who would have associated those numbers with only Sam himself, because he know the history and significance behind them.

He sighed and turned away from the computer, trying not to think of how bizarre and surreal all of this was...he had just used his dad's computer to send a page to Alan, who was actually literally inside his dad's computer with the pager.

He looked up at Quorra, gave her a wry smile, and motioned to her. _"C'mon,...we gotta get moving. Lots to do, and we still gotta' make it to the beach in time for the sunset."_

She smiled, and was by his side in an instant. Then they headed up the stairs together.


	32. Chapter 32

It was a comedy of errors, really,...though Kevin wasn't exactly laughing at the moment.

They'd rezzed a service-ladder to climb down from the roof of the arcade, and even though the thin ladder rungs were lighted, it was still easy to miss one here or there. Clu, the perfect program, missed two in a row near the ground, somehow letting go of his grip on the ladder side-railing at the same time his foot slipped, and he fell back onto Tron's arms, who was then knocked loose from his own grip on the rails at which point Tron lost his balance and fell too, straight back onto Kevin, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him. Then Clu fell on top of Tron, pinning him to Kevin, and the ladder fell on top of all of them, landing flat with it's middle balancing atop them like a fulcrum, it's ends angrily swinging like a see-saw and clanging at the ground on either side.

No one moved right away.  
Kevin sighed, trying his best to breathe under the combined weight of Tron, Clu and the ladder.  
The Three Stooges could not have performed a more brilliantly-flubbed maneuver.

"_Uh,...Clu?...you think you might wanna' get that ladder off us and hop up, man?..."_

"_...yes, "_ came the simple, slightly sheepish and aggravated reply.

Clu climbed to his feet, throwing the ladder off with a growl of frustration and watching it derezz itself against the pavement. Then he reached a hand and helped Tron to his feet, after which they both reached a hand to Kevin. Kevin looked at them, and finally chuckled as they pulled him to a standing position.

"_Thanks, guys..."_ He grunted, dusting himself off more from habit than the actual presence of dust, _"...let's not make a ladder next time,...what say?..."_

Clu smirked. Tron nodded in agreement. And Kevin stretched his limbs, wincing. Between this and his antics in the Game Arena, he was starting to feel like a Hollywood stunt man. He kept forgetting he was young again, because at times like this he sure didn't feel it.

The three of them hurried into the arcade so as not to attract attention, seeing as how the ladder incident had already made quite a clatter. Starting down the steep stairs to the lab, Kevin stopped, then stepped back and made Clu go first, followed by Tron. He shook his head and laughed.

"_Nope, uh-uh. I'm not having both you guys fall on me again."_

Once at the bottom of the steps, Clu started forward into the lab, but then stopped abruptly, causing Tron to bump into him and Kevin to bump into Tron. Kevin's voice did its inimitable octave-jump as he reacted with frustration.

"_Man!...what -"_ But then he paused, noticing why Clu had stopped so suddenly and what he was staring at - a second chair now sat a few inches back from the one in front of the interface desk, and in the seat of the new chair was a very familiar object...the Grid's version of an old Motorola pager.  
Twenty-one years old, in fact. The small digital screen on it now glowed and flashed, but otherwise it looked just like the pager Alan had always carried, the one Kevin had given him just before he'd come to the Grid and gotten stuck here.

Kevin gave a wry smile and shook his head, thoughts poring over this new development. "_He didn't...yeah, he sure did. But,... how?...and why'd he __leave it here?..."_

Clu looked at him, puzzled, as did Tron. But Kevin took a step forward, seemingly oblivious to their stares as he walked around them and into the lab, then stopped to stand beside the chair. He picked up the pager, turning it over in his hand, then held it up, with a wry, incredulous smile.

"_...somehow-...somehow he rezzed it in here with him?..."_ Kevin looked down at the chair, _"...and the chair too?...though I'm not sure how. It should've only digitized him,...not -...not the solid objects around him...that's weird."_

Then again, when he really thought about it, the whole damn thing was weird.

Clu walked to him and glanced at the pager in his hand. _"What is that?"_

"_Alan's pager..."_ Kevin replied, handing the pager to Clu, _"...you remember you contacted him from the Grid?... that's what the number came through to him on."_

Clu inspected it curiously, and Kevin pointed, adding, _"...well,...the Real World version of it, at least. Not quite as flashy as this one." _

Just then Clu jumped, as the pager vibrated in his hand, startling him. He looked at Kevin, who frowned, eyes narrowing as he took the pager back and inspected it.

"_Yeah,... and that's kinda' odd...it just got a page."_

Kevin pressed the button, and stared at the display screen. It was a ten digit phone number, and he had no idea whose. Who else besides him would ever use this pager to contact Alan?  
He did at least recognize the 310 area code, even after 21 years on the Grid - Los Angeles.  
Just then the pager vibrated again, and he looked at the display.

"_...89?..."_ He gave a confused smirk, assuming for a second that it was someone's extension number, but before he could speculate as to whose it was, the pager vibrated yet again.

This time when he looked at the number on the screen, his eyes immediately softened, and he smiled.  
07734. He chuckled, speaking in almost a sad whisper, _"...hello... of course..." _  
As the memory sprang back into his consciousness, it was as though it had just happened yesterday...

_...he was sitting at the kitchen table by a small stack of bills, preparing to write checks for the ones which were due, and tallying the account balance in his checkbook register.  
A six year old Sam wandered through the room and stopped by the table.  
Each month when Kevin did this chore, Sam always asked the same questions, and Kevin always answered pretty much the same..._

_Hey Dad,...whatcha' doin'?...  
Hey kiddo,...just payin' bills...  
Can I put the stamps on?...  
Yeah...not ready yet though. In just a minute, okay?..._

_Sam nodded, fiddling with the digital calculator, punching a few numbers into it before setting it back down. Then he grinned, and half-walked half-galloped out of the room, presumably off to do something else until the envelopes were ready for the stamps to go on them.  
_

_When Kevin reached across for his calculator, it was laying with the display screen upside down, and when seen upside-down, the digital LED numbers seemed to form the word, " hello."  
Then he turned the calculator right side up – the numbers read 07734._

_He smiled, and laughed to himself.  
...what a brilliant kid - six years old and he's leaving me encrypted messages on my calculator... _

_And every month after that when it was time to pay bills, Sam would do the same thing.  
Sometimes he would just do it in passing, whenever he happened into the kitchen, and he would then leave the calculator out on the counter upside-down with the pseudo-word "hello" there for Kevin to see. It always made Kevin smile just as proudly each time.  
Then when he did the same thing to Alan's desk calculator the day they visited his office at ENCOM, Alan had gotten a big laugh over it, so of course Sam did the same thing again whenever Kevin took him by Alan's office from then on... _

Still smiling wistfully, Kevin snapped back out of the memory, remembering how it wasn't very long after that when he'd gone to the Grid.  
Then he shook his head and sighed, both eyebrows raised, realizing what the 89 probably meant...it was the year he'd disappeared.  
It made tears well in his eyes. And of course he gathered the Los Angeles phone number was Sam's number. For some reason, Sam had sent identifiers along with it...maybe he'd wanted to be sure Alan knew it was really him.

Kevin looked at the pager again fondly, a bit sadly, and finally put it in his jacket pocket. He cleared his throat and blinked the tears away, then looked up at Clu, nodding.

"_My son sent that. He's trying to reach Alan...he knows he's here."_


	33. Chapter 33

This was at least familiar. The guards were leading him into the enormous room that looked like a gymnasium.  
Apparently it was called the Armory, which was ironic because there were absolutely no armaments to be seen at all.  
Nothing but barren dark walls, and a circular platform in the center of the room.  
_...and, here we go again..._

This was the part where he had to step up onto the platform.  
And, next the compartments in the walls would open to reveal the four strange women dressed all in white.  
It was actually rather cold in the room, but at least he didn't feel half-asleep anymore. When the guards had first awakened him in his cell, he'd been exhausted and sluggish, but then they'd served him breakfast, along with coffee, which oddly enough wasn't bad. It woke him up, and oddly had also made his scalp tingle, but thankfully that subsided at some point during the walk to this place. Now he felt much more alert.

The women in white were approaching now, and one of them took the disk off of his back. The one with the strange long glowing fingernail stepped close to him and drew along the lines of his suit. Before he knew it she'd somehow split open the seams on his suit, whereupon the platform beneath him just sort of sucked the suit right off of his body and away it went down into the floor.  
He immediately reached to cover himself, and scowled. This process seemed entirely unnecessary.

"_Hey!...don't you people believe in modesty?..."_

No one answered him.  
Instead one of the women sprouted the long glowing fingernail and began drawing another suit onto him. He looked at his arms as she drew contours of light along them, and it was then he noticed a rather substantial partially-healed cut along the outer edge of his left forearm. It didn't seem to hurt, which was odd considering the size of the wound. What was much more odd was that he had absolutely no notion of where it had come from. But soon the arm was covered in the black light-suit, as was the rest of him, and he scarcely had time to give it another thought...because just as the women in white replaced the disk onto his back, a loud high-pitched squeal assaulted his eardrums, literally making him jump from the sudden noise.

He clasped his hands to his ears, and gave an irritated expression, but the women standing around him only looked at him with the same placid expression.

"_Don't you HEAR THAT?.." _His voice was loud, with an exasperated edge, but the women just stared at him vacantly. Then one of them stepped forward, took hold of his hands and gently but forcibly moved them from his ears. When she did, he noticed the whine subsided to a mere whisper. It reminded him of holding a conch shell to his ear as a kid, and hearing a sound not unlike that of the sea.

All of a sudden the room seemed to spin a little, and he felt very sleepy.  
Strangely his thoughts told him to just close his eyes and rest, which didn't make any sense – he was standing...wouldn't he fall over?  
Yet he did it anyway. He stood there and closed his eyes, letting his chin drop and lowering his head. And everything went black, silent. The void.

The helmet rezzed into place, the lowered head raising as the overhead spotlight reflected eerie glints across the unreadable face of the onyx shield. The ominous figure with glowing red circuitry stepped down off the platform, and sentries moved to flank him, escorting him from the Armory and up to the Game Arena.

* * *

Kevin walked to the interface desk, and sat down slowly, emotion still gripping his throat from the inside as he fought back the sudden well of tears that kept trying to flood his eyes.  
His son was still trying to save the day, and yet had no idea what the grid had become, had no idea his father was even still alive and trapped in it.  
_...kiddo,...I'm sorry I drew you into all this...  
...just stay safe and stay there...we're gonna figure something out...  
_

He turned to look up at Clu, who had approached and stood quietly beside him.

"_Clu,...I need your help. You and I gotta find a way to get through to Sam."_

Clu nodded, and already the wheels were turning.  
He sat down in the chair next to Kevin, and nodded towards the interface keyboard. Kevin realized he was asking for permission to access the system, and he rolled his chair aside, gesturing at the interface.

"_Go ahead, man,...be my guest."_

Clu sat focused on the screen, then fingers began quickly typing a series of commands. Just then Tron spoke from across the room, his voice quiet, almost apologetic, with a look of concern on his face.

"_Kevin Fl-...Kevin,...there's something that has me confused."_

Kevin glanced over at him, his voice soft. _"What's that, buddy?"_

Tron looked all around the room, as he spoke. _"This place...looks different...than it did before. There were things, on the shelf, a piece of furniture here which isn't here now. And,...upstairs,...there were games, as you called them, in the room...but not now. Everything is...empty and plain now, almost,...somber. Why?"_

"_Oh. That. Well,...it's complicated. Sorta has to do with-...well, okay, it's-..." _ Kevin stopped and sighed, not sure how to explain this to Tron.  
He didn't even really understand it himself. It verged on quantum physics with a crossover to the workings of the subconscious mind, and there was no way to explain that succinctly, not as tired as he was, and not in less than a few hours. He ran a hand across his forehead, then continued.

"_It's about-...okay, what you see...here, in this room, the arcade...at any given time,...really has to do with what you bring with you, meaning,...what's on your mind, you know?...like,..."_

He paused, still trying to find a simple way to phrase it._ "...like, your memories,...thoughts,...moods... expectations,...those kinda' create, or shape what your reality is here,...you know what I mean?..." _

Tron shook his head.  
Kevin sighed, stood, and walked over to him.

_"Well,...okay,...can't really go into the whole...in-depth of the why,...but,...when you were here before,...maybe you were remembering how it looked in the past...seeing what the room...meant,... to you, so to speak...same for me,...and,...you saw __what you expected to see. Same for me. Now, it's different, because, you're different. Things have happened, changed,...there's a lot going on, and it's...serious stuff,...somber...so, the room you see is somber."_

Tron raised an eyebrow. He didn't really fully understand, but, he was trying to. _"So,...maybe because we're...somber,...focused,... trying to solve a problem,...then... we only really need the bare basic objects here, in order to do that?...and so...that's all we see?..."_

Kevin's eyebrows shot up and he gave a half smile. _"Yes!... That's kinda pretty much it!"_

Just then, Clu turned in the chair, looked over at them, and stood. _"Kevin,...I've found a way to send him a word message. It's really very simple."_

Kevin's eyes widened even more.  
He looked from Clu to Tron and back at Clu again. These two programs of his really were amazing...in the two and a half minutes which had passed, Tron had grasped the basic theory behind artificial intelligence thought-forms and spatial modeling, and Clu had found a way to do what he himself hadn't been able to in 21 years - to get written communications past the Grid and to the Real World.

Clu spoke, walking over to where Kevin and Tron stood. "_This system is,...a mirror of the one which exists in your world, right?..."_

Kevin nodded, and Clu continued. _"Then it's simply a matter of looping back to the source from which this original page came...the source, which you call 'the lab'...with a sequence of code added to act as a portal would, similar to what I did to contact Alan-One's pager to begin with,...a conversion from numerical to text values should bypass the Grid itself and go straight to the source,...then through the telecommunications lines to- "_

Kevin's jaw dropped, and he finished the sentence, _"...to Sam's phone."_

Clu nodded. _"Theoretically, yes. Either as numerical binary code, or as a text conversion, assuming he has a visual interface like the pager. "_

There was a slight pause, as Kevin rapidly sorted through what Clu had just suggested.  
Then he blinked as it sunk in,...and then his mouth curled into a slow smile,... and then he was bounding across the room, laughing and literally grabbing a very startled Clu, picking him up and spinning him around in a huge hug.

"_**CLU!...you did it, man!...You did it!...you found a way to get us outta' here!**__.." _

Kevin was still laughing as he stepped back , grabbed both of Clu's shoulders. Then he clapped his hands together, and laughed again...how very brilliant this was, and how simple. Why he hadn't thought of it, all this time, he didn't know. He shook his head, laughing, then finally just burst into a spontaneous cheer, raising both arms in the air and hollering, _**"...ha-haaa!,...YEAH!"**_

Clu gave an incredulous smile, looking over at Tron. This was a side of his Creator he had not seen.

Tron smiled. _"It would appear he's very pleased with you."_

Clu grinned, and looked at Kevin, then spoke with a shrug. _"Let's get started then."_

It didn't take Clu long to set up the string of code, and then he stood up from the interface. He grinned proudly, and looked at his Creator. _"Your move, Kevin Flynn."_

Kevin smiled at him, and sat down at the interface.  
What to say?  
Maybe just something short, to see if this in fact worked, and if it did he had a feeling Sam would send a page right back.  
He sat there a few moments more, and then he typed the message.

_**Hello, 07734, hello. It's me, kiddo, I'm still here. Alan's here.**_

Then he thought about it a moment more, and added something, so that Sam would know without a doubt it was him:

_**Yes it's really me. We're always on the same team.**_

A nanocycle later the message was sent.

* * *

Los Angeles

ooooooooooooooo

Sam sighed as he put the key to the new lock onto his keychain, then he gathered up the pieces from the old lock and doorknob, tossing them into his backpack.  
He stood, and looked at Quorra.

"_Well,...that's done. Probably should get going now,...get to the electronics place, and-"_

He stopped mid-sentence, startled by the vibrating of his phone in his pocket.  
A message alert.  
He retrieved the phone, and unwound the wire which bundled it to the re-director device.  
He wasn't sure if he's need to disconnect it in order to access the inbox, but probably so. He'd never tried to use the phone with it in place.  
He rewound the wire again and put the phone back into his pocket. It was best to just wait and open the message later once they got home.

He started to gather the tools up and put them back into his backpack, but then stopped.  
He had a nagging feeling he should open the message now.  
He sighed, then retrieved the phone again, unwinding the wire, opening the phone casing, disconnecting the patch.  
Then he rebooted the phone and waited.

A few seconds later, the alert vibrated, once again telling him there was a message in the inbox.  
He pressed a finger to the prompts on the screen, then stood staring at the words he saw.

_**Hello, 07734, hello. It's me, kiddo, I'm still here. Alan's here.  
Yes it's really me. We're always on the same team.**_

He looked up at Quorra in disbelief. Emotions welled in him, and tears automatically sprung to his eyes. He managed to speak, blinking back tears and clearing his throat as he held the phone up for her to see the screen.

"_It's Dad..."_

She looked back at him, equally shocked. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and a second later he turned and bolted across to the Tron game machine, yanking it away from the wall and then literally jumping down most of the entire flight of stairs.


	34. Chapter 34

Los Angeles

* * *

Sam nearly wiped out at the foot of the stairs, his boots sliding on the dusty floor as he darted across to the computer desk. Quorra was taking the more prudent approach, descending the steps one at a time, then finally walking across to stand beside where Sam stood leaning over the desk, fingers tapping on the keys furiously as he navigated through coding to send another message. Then he paused, tapping on the desktop. He was edgy, impatient, desperate to get a message to his father but trying to think this through as to just how...somehow a message had come through to his cell phone, but sending numbers back to the analog pager from this computer was the only option he had. It would be time-consuming but there wasn't much choice, not that he could discern.

He typed in the message.

_Dad, I'm here. Quorra too.  
You ok? Alan ok? _

He stood, thinking. Binary would take forever to send on the pager. But hex wasn't an option, because likely the screen on Alan's old pager didn't have full alphanumeric capabilities. He wasn't sure whether it did or didn't, so he decided to stick with binary. He shortened the message quite a bit, taking out most of the punctuation and adding numeric shorthand.

_Dad Im here-Q2  
U ok? Alan2?_

Then he enacted code strings until he found one which would translate binary.  
He input the text, whereupon an array of numbers appeared on the display.

01000100 01100001 01100100 00100000 01001001 01101101 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00101101 01010001 00110010 00001101 00001010 01010101 01101111 01101011 00111111 00100000 01000001 01101100 01100001 01101110 00110010 00111111

Then he frowned. Still a very long message. Too long.  
No way to tell how many separate pages that message alone would take to send in it's entirety, not to mention all the other things he wanted to say, all he wanted to ask.  
He wracked his brain, wishing there was some way to loop back a message through the computer itself, so he could send real-time text.  
He tried all the methods he knew of, code after code, a dozen different commands, but the old computer just wasn't cooperating.  
And then it occurred to him – his dad had found a way to send text to his cell phone from this computer.  
This was his dad's computer.  
So, logically, if there was a way to find a loopback, his dad would know how.

He amended the message, keeping it very simple.

_here dad  
need txt loopbk_

Then he translated it.

01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100100 01100001 01100100 00001101 00001010 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110100 01111000 01110100 00100000 01101100 01101111 01101111 01110000 01100010 01101011 00001101 00001010

He input the pager number and sent the lines of text in two transmissions, hoping it would work and not truncate the numbers. Then he paced around the room, thoughts racing, finally stopping to stand beside the dusty shelves. Quorra looked at him for a few seconds, then walked over to where he stood. Her eyes were wide, and in them he saw mirrored back so many of the emotions which were clamoring around in his own head and heart. He reached out his arms and drew her close to him into an embrace, then just rested his chin there on the top of her head as she leaned against him. They stood still that way for several moments.

Until the vibration of his cell phone broke the silence.  
It's casing was buzzing against the metal surface of the computer desk, where he'd laid it down in his haste to access the system and send another page. He scrambled over to pick up the cell, nearly dropping the re-director wires in the process and then hurriedly stuffing them in his pocket to get them out of the way.  
He touched the screen of the cell phone, and he and Quorra both read the message.

_**Sam, look on the screen.**_

He looked up, then saw the monitor. Sure enough, his dad had somehow created a loop so that they could communicate.  
At the bottom of the screen there was that blinking cursor again, and next to it in all-caps, the rudimentary system dot-matrix letters were typing themselves into lines of text even as he stood there watching.

_YOU HAD A LOOPBACK FROM THE START ON THIS END  
_I COULD SEE YOU TYPING  
_JUST HAD TO MAKE IT WORK FROM OUR END TOO, NOW IT DOES  
_I'M RIGHT HERE SON, AND YES I'M OK  
_

Then the cursor sat blinking.  
Sam laughed, and looked at Quorra, who was beaming ear to ear. Uncannily, as though in response to her laugh, next came the words onscreen.

_HEY, Q, IT'S KEVIN  
_SAM BEHAVING HIMSELF?  
_

Quorra laughed, tears springing to her ice blue eyes as she brought her hands to her mouth and stared in awe at the interface.  
Sam was smiling too, and he leaned over, laughing and quickly typing a message back to Kevin.

_I'VE NEVER BEHAVED MYSELF A DAY IN MY LIFE, DAD  
_

He grinned, waiting for words to appear next to the cursor. Which of course they did.

_CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK THERE, KIDDO  
_WISH YOU COULD SEE ME SMILING  
_

Sam laughed, then typed in a simple symbol, just from force-of-habit after years of sending text-messages.

_:)  
_

A second later, Kevin's reply appeared.

_WHAT?  
_

Sam laughed again.  
There was much in the technological world his father had missed in the past two decades...he'd have to teach him, and in this respect the child was the father to the man.  
How funny it was that of all the things to talk about, they were starting with the lesson of internet and text emoticons.

_THAT'S A SMILEY FACE  
_ SHORTHAND, SORTA LIKE ASCII  
_WE USE IT FOR TEXT MESSAGES  
_THAT'S WHAT YOU SENT ME, A TEXT MESSAGE, ON THE PHONE  
_

And Kevin's words appeared in reply.

_YEAH, THAT WAS RAD. SIMPLE REALLY, CAN'T BELIEVE I NEVER THOUGHT TO TRY IT BEFORE  
_BIT COMPRESSION, SAME AS THE ANALOG PAGER BUT ALPHANUMERIC DIGITAL  
_IT'S HOW WE'RE TALKING NOW  
_

But Sam wasn't expecting the next words which appeared onscreen.

_YEAH, PRETTY COOL  
_CLU JUST SAT HERE AND FIGURED IT OUT  
_

Sam stared at the screen. Quorra gasped at the words, then stared at him.  
What?  
Clu?  
THE Clu?... As in, Clu 2.0?...  
The same program who'd gone haywire and turned the entire Grid into a terrifying virtual police state?...the one who'd posed as his dad and sentenced him to face off with the deadliest program on the Grid?...in fact, the one who'd turned his childhood hero into the deadliest program on the Grid to begin with?...

What the hell was his dad doing with Clu?

How had Clu survived?  
Well, then again, how had his dad survived?  
WAS this even his dad, or was it Clu playing tricks again?  
Sam immediately started typing.

_CLU? HE'S THERE?  
_DAD WHAT'S GOING ON?  
_

But just after he'd typed the words, Kevin's reply appeared.

_EVERYTHING'S OK SAM, DON'T WORRY  
_I GOT THE GLITCH CLEARED UP IN CLU'S CODING  
_HE'S ON OUR TEAM NOW  
_WEIRD SOUNDING I KNOW, BUT HE'S AN ALRIGHT GUY  
_:)

Sam's eyebrows shot upward, puzzled, and then he grinned, seeing his dad had used the smiley-face emoticon. Then more words came through from the Grid.

_AND TRON'S HERE TOO  
_

Tron? He was back? What had happened to Rinzler?  
And what about Alan?  
So many questions. Sam started typing again.

_SO ALAN'S OK TOO?  
_WHY'D HE GO THERE? DIDN'T THINK HE EVEN KNEW HOW  
_I HAVEN'T TOLD HIM ABOUT THE GRID YET OR YOU  
_

There was a pause. Sam waited, and then finally words started appearing.

_ALAN GOT A PAGE FROM THE GRID, WASN'T SENT BY CLU OR ME  
_HE DIDN'T TRY TO COME TO THE GRID, JUST HAPPENED  
_LASER ACTIVATED WHEN HE BOOTED UP THE OLD APPLE  
_

Sam nodded, realizing of course his dad couldn't see him nodding. He knew all too well about the laser's spontaneous activation issue. He was about to type something to that effect when more words appeared onscreen.

_DON'T WANT YOU TO WORRY, BUT SOMETHING'S HAPPENED TO THE GRID  
_NOT SURE WHAT  
_BUT CLU'S NO LONGER IN COMMAND AND WE'RE KIND OF IN HIDING FROM WHOEVER IS  
_THEY GOT ALAN  
_

The words instantly chilled Sam to the bone.  
And it was as though his dad could read what he'd been thinking, what he'd been just about to type, because just then words began appearing onscreen again.

_DON'T TRY TO COME HERE SAM  
_YOU AND QUORRA HAVE TO PROMISE TO STAY SAFE  
_WE NEED YOUR HELP FROM WHERE YOU ARE  
_

Sam sighed. Even without being told, he knew the best way to help his dad was from outside the Grid, not from within it.  
He also knew he couldn't and wouldn't leave Quorra alone in his world.  
And,...he knew that his dad wasn't going to rest until he knew Sam had heard his request.  
Sure enough, there came the words onto the screen.

_SAM, YOU HEAR ME?  
_PROMISE?  
_

Sam sighed yet again. How is it he could be twenty-seven and somehow feel like a seven year old again when his dad said those words. After a long pause, he typed back the reply.

_YEAH DAD. PROMISE  
_BUT I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU AGAIN  
_

And Kevin's reply came back almost instantly.

_YOU'RE NOT GONNA LOSE ME, SAM  
_WE'RE SAFE AT THE ARCADE FOR NOW  
_GONNA FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET ALAN FREE FROM THIS  
_WE HAVE ABOUT SIX HOURS UNTIL THE PORTAL CLOSES  
_

Sam tapped a finger on the desktop nervously. Six hours wasn't a lot of time. Not considering what all he had to figure out from his end. And he really wasn't sure where to start.

_JUST TELL ME HOW I CAN HELP FROM HERE, WHAT TO DO  
_

The reply from his dad wasn't quite what he'd expected.

_NOT SURE YET  
_

He stared at the screen, waiting.  
_...okay,...not a lot to go on, there, Dad..._

He waited another moment. He glanced at his watch.  
_...so, we have six hours from now...  
...so much can happen in six hours...  
...especially on the Grid..._

Just then the words typed onto the screen.

_ANYTHING WEIRD HAPPENING ON YOUR END?  
_

Sam's eyebrows rose, and he couldn't help but give a half-chuckle. He typed the reply.

_YOU MEAN BESIDES CHATTING WITH MY DAD ON THE COMPUTER HE'S SOMEHOW TRAPPED INSIDE OF?  
_CUZ YEAH THAT'S PRETTY WEIRD :)  
_

He could almost picture Kevin Flynn's smirk. And, then, he laughed at what appeared on the screen.

_~)  
_THAT'S MY SHORTHAND  
_ MEANS 'YOU FUNNY GUY, YOU'  
_

Sam and Quorra both laughed. Then she looked from the screen to Sam. _"Can I say something to him?"_

Sam tilted his head, nodding. He felt instantly like he'd been selfish - he'd jumped right in on the keyboard when his dad had mentioned Quorra, and then gotten so absorbed in conversing with him that he hadn't even thought she might want to as well. Then again, he realized, this was a rather extraordinary set of events, so he couldn't exactly fault himself for being just a little self-centered. Anyone in his position would have been.

He smiled and stepped aside, making room for her at the keyboard. _"Sure...absolutely."_

Quorra studied the keyboard for a few seconds.  
Why these letters were arranged in such a way she didn't know. It would make more sense to simply have the alphabet there starting with A and ending with Z. But, she slowly found each letter and symbol, and then typed out her message to her mentor, not bothering to hunt for punctuation marks. She just wanted him to hear her voice, so to speak.

_HELLO KEVIN FLYNN ITS QUORRA  
_THE USER WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL WITH SUNRISES AND SUNSETS  
_I MISS YOU AND PLEASE BE SAFE  
_I WILL STEP ASIDE SO THAT SAM FLYNN CAN TALK WITH YOU AGAIN  
_

Sam smiled, reading her message. And then came Kevin's words.

_MISS YOU TOO, Q. IT'S A WONDERFUL WORLD ISN'T IT?  
_I'LL BE SAFE, DON'T WORRY, WILL SEE YOU AND THE KIDDO SOON

Quorra smiled. Sam found himself blushing slightly at having been called 'the kiddo' in front of Quorra. He chuckled to himself, then stepped back to lean over the keys again, his face turning more serious.

_DAD, YOU ASKED ABOUT ANYTHING WEIRD HAPPENING  
_

Kevin's reply appeared quickly.

_YEAH, WHAT'S UP?  
_

Sam took a deep breath. Where to start? Well, how about at the beginning. He shrugged and started typing.

_CAME BY HERE THIS MORNING, ALAN'S CAR WAS GETTING TOWED FROM OUT FRONT  
_WASN'T ANSWERING HIS PHONE EITHER, JUST STRANGE YOU KNOW?  
_WENT TO ENCOM, HE WASN'T THERE  
_THEN SAW HE'D DIALED THIS NUMBER SO I CAME BACK HERE  
_THAT'S WHEN THE WEIRD PART HAPPENED  
_

He paused, trying to decide how much detail to go into about the power outage, the DSL box, all of that. His dad didn't really know about the internet, having been trapped in the Grid for most of the years of its development as a worldwide communications tool.

In the delay while Sam paused to think, Kevin typed back.

_WAIT, DIALED THE NUMBER, FROM HIS OFFICE YOU MEAN?  
_HOW'D YOU FIND THAT OUT?  
_

Sam chewed on his lip and sighed.  
_...well gosh, Dad,...kinda hoping you wouldn't ask that..._

He was about to reply when more words appeared to the scroll of previous text onscreen.

_NEVER MIND  
_YOU'RE MY KID, THAT'S HOW  
_OK SO WHAT HAPPENED?  
_

Sam gave a smirk, then exhaled, and resumed typing.

_CAME BACK, GOT DOWN HERE TO THE BASEMENT ROOM AND FOUND HIS PAGER  
_WHAT IS I GUESS THE SCANNING SEQUENCE - CODES? IT WAS STILL LISTING ON THE SCREEN  
_SO I HIT ENTER TO TRY TO START A SHUTDOWN BUT THE LASER SEQUENCE INITIALIZED AGAIN  
_COULDN'T STOP IT  
_I GOT OUT OF THE WAY QUICK AND IT SCANNED THE PAGER, CHAIR TOO  
_KIND OF GOT CREEPED OUT THEN YOU KNOW?  
_DIDN'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO SO I TURNED THE BREAKER OFF

There was a pause.  
Sam was more than a little worried that Kevin might be upset. But then the reply came back.

_THAT WAS YOU?  
_SURE GAVE TRON AND CLU THE HEEBIE JEEBIES  
_YOU GOT IT TURNED BACK ON FAST THOUGH  
_

Sam quirked his head, and frowned, typing faster.

_NO, DAD, I DIDN'T  
_I LEFT, REALLY FAST, WENT TO GET QUORRA  
_DIDN'T THINK ABOUT WHAT IT MIGHT HAVE DONE TO THE GRID TIL WE GOT BACK HERE  
_WHEN WE DID I FOUND THE BATTERY BACKUP, THE UPS UNIT RUNNING  
_

There was a pause.  
Then Kevin's reply refreshed the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach from earlier.

_UPS? YOU MEAN UNIVERSAL POWER SUPPLY?  
_THERE ISN'T A BACKUP UNIT ON THE SYSTEM SAM  
_

Sam stared at the screen, really uneasy now. Especially when Kevin's reply continued.

_UNLESS SOMEONE ELSE PUT IT THERE  
_BECAUSE I SURE DIDN'T  
_

Well, this wasn't good. And it was exactly what he'd wondered about when he'd found the power supply unit to begin with. This was one time Sam didn't like being on the same wavelength as his dad.  
His fingertips flew into action.

_WAS WONDERING IF YOU PUT IT THERE AND DIDN'T THINK SO  
_BUT THAT'S NOT THE WIERDEST PART  
_BEFORE TURNING BREAKER ON AGAIN I DISCONNECTED THE LASER'S PARALLEL AND POWER CABLES, FOUND A CONNECTION BOX  
_AND OK, REMEMBER I WAS TELLING YOU ABOUT HOW WE HAVE THE INTERNET NOW?  
_WELL THIS COMPUTER'S HOOKED UP TO IT, OR WAS- I DISCONNECTED IT  
_I KNOW YOU DIDN'T DO IT, BECAUSE THE INTERNET WASN'T AROUND BACK THEN  
_I'D SURE LIKE TO KNOW WHO DID  
_

After a very long pause, the words appeared onscreen.

_YEAH, SO WOULD I  
_THIS ISN'T GOOD  
_

Sam leaned over to type a reply, but just then the room went dark around him. He jumped and Quorra did too. The screen was still illuminated with the scrolled messages, and in the silence of the room he heard the faint electrical hum as the UPS backup unit continued powering the computer. He fumbled for the cell phone on the desktop, but just as he touched the screen to provide a small source of ambient light, the power to the room returned.


	35. Chapter 35

Kevin sat staring at the words on the display, waiting for Sam's reply. His thoughts were a tangle of open-ended questions.  
_...the internet...who?...and how?...  
...how'd they get into the lab, or even know to look for it?...  
...and why would someone want to hook his computer to the internet anyway?..._

Back in 1989, the internet was something he'd certainly heard of, but hadn't developed much interest in, mostly because of his obsession with the Grid at the time. Back then it was called "the worldwide web". In '88 he'd tried a demo copy of a telecom-based program called 'Prodigy' which operated via a modem and offered home shopping and news access, but it just wasn't something he'd cared all that much for at the time. He was far too interested in the ISO's, and the way the Grid was evolving. In fact it interested him more than the real world sometimes. Then came the fateful day he digitized himself that one last time. Since then, quite a lot of technology in the real world had developed and evolved, he just hadn't been a part of it. But clearly someone else had.  
He wondered if this was perhaps how the Grid had been brought back online, after the re-integration, and if this was how someone else had taken control of it.

He sat there, thoughts gathering, and he worked through possible considerations of who it might have been, what motives.  
He knew it wasn't Alan. There was no way.  
_...but who?...  
...could be anyone... _  
_...maybe someone at ENCOM?... _  
_...no...well, maybe, but not likely...  
...unless,...Dillinger?..._

After all, the episode with Tron and the mention of the Master Control Program. And the nightmare he'd had at the safehouse - it was about Ed Dillinger Sr._  
...yeah but that's just a coincidence..._

But the more he thought about it, it didn't seem that much like a coincidence. There was a person who had motive, means, and opportunity.

_...but,...Dillinger?...Really?...by himself?...  
...no...that's extreme...  
...besides, a grudge for this long?...and, to this extent?...  
...all this, just to keep the Grid running?...  
...what, to keep me here trapped in it?...  
...oh surely to God not...  
...that seems so far-fetched..._

Then again, he couldn't exactly call anything far-fetched after spending twenty-one years digitized into his own computer. He sat there for a few more moments thinking, then snapped out of the thoughts, and looked at the blinking cursor on the screen again, suddenly wondering why Sam hadn't replied.

_STILL THERE, KIDDO?  
_

A few seconds went by. And then the reply appeared.

_YEAH, STILL HERE DAD  
_SORRY  
_

Just as he'd been about to ask if Sam minded still being called "kiddo" at his age, another reply typed itself onscreen.

_SOMETHING ELSE WEIRD JUST HAPPENED  
_POWER WENT OUT FOR A SECOND  
_

Kevin frowned.

_THAT SO?  
_

He sat, thinking...the entire time he'd had the basement lab – _well, he called it a lab, but everyone else would simply call an office, and a very messy one at that_ – the power had never once gone out, not even during a freak thunderstorm during the rainy season.  
That was why he'd never bothered with a battery backup UPS unit for the system. Of course, he never figured that one day he'd be living inside of it, dependent on the power-supply to the CPU in order to stay alive.

And now that he thought of it, the chances of the power never having gone out even once during the twenty-one years he'd been trapped in the Grid seemed slim to none and defied odds.  
Not only that, but, all these years, or cycles, on the Grid, ...it had never once occurred to him before now to wonder – had the CPU had been running all that time? Twenty one years? What was the likelihood that in twenty-one years something wouldn't have malfunctioned, burned out, and stopped working, bringing the Grid to a grinding halt? Those odds were astronomical.

Now he really didn't like the conclusions formulating in his head.

And yet, there were still answers needed in order to make all of this really make any sense, to make even his existence in the grid make sense.  
But those answers just weren't there, and yet, he was there...unless this was all just a dream and he was going to wake up back in his old bedroom in the year 1989.  
And he knew that wasn't the case.  
He did however know that someone, somehow, had taken pains to make certain that the lab had power...that the old Apple had power, therefore the Grid had power,...and that the system was maintained and safeguarded from malfunction. And of course, at some point, to make sure that it was connected to this thing called the internet.

Kevin sat there staring at the keyboard, thinking of the irony – he'd just warned his son to stay away from the Grid...now he was realizing that as dangerous and subversive as the Grid had become, it was a distinct possibility that the real world had become a thousand times more so.  
And his son was out there in it. So was Quorra.  
_...we gotta find Alan...  
...then we gotta get the hell outta here...  
...all of us,...me, Alan, Clu and Tron...  
_

Just then Kevin snapped out of his thoughts again, and remembered to look at the display screen.  
He'd drifted off into his frantic thoughts for probably a minute or more, and now there were several lines of text from Sam.

_YEAH  
_SURE WAS SUDDEN  
_CAME RIGHT BACK ON THOUGH  
_UPS STILL RUNNING

_YOU THERE?  
_

_DAD, YOU STILL THERE?  
_

The cursor blinked steadily, like the ticking of a clock, and Kevin imagined Sam must be worried waiting and wondering, considering what had just happened. He quickly typed a reply.

_YEAH, HERE KIDDO  
_SORRY  
_JUST THINKING

_THIS IS KINDA HEAVY  
_

Sam's reply came back quickly.

_YOU'RE TELLING ME  
_

Kevin sighed and resumed typing.

_SO EVERYTHING'S BACK ON NOW, RIGHT?  
_LIGHTS, UPSTAIRS TOO?  
_

Sam didn't reply at first, then finally the words appeared onscreen.

_YEAH, THINK SO  
_HEY WITHOUT THE LIGHTS IT'S PITCH DARK IN HERE, KNOW THAT?  
_

Kevin mused.

_AT NIGHT YEAH, PRETTY MUCH

Sam's reply shot back.

_NOPE, IT'S 4:35 PM

Kevin drew back slightly in surprise, and chuckled.

_THERE'S A WINDOW RIGHT THERE  
_JUST OPEN THE BLINDS  
_

There was another pause. Then Sam's reply made him draw his chin even farther back, puzzled.

_WHAT BLINDS?  
_AND THE WINDOW'S BOARDED UP, REMEMBER?

Kevin frowned. This was definitely not right...he had forgotten a lot of things since being in the Grid, but he knew he had never boarded up that basement window.  
That plus the previous concerns had Kevin's thoughts now swirling with a myriad of unresolved possibilities. He was starting to get a clearer picture of what might be going on, but he didn't want to alarm Sam. So he didn't mention the window anymore.

_TELL YOU WHAT  
_NEED TO THINK ALL THIS THROUGH A FEW MINUTES  
_SEE WHAT I COME UP WITH  
_MAYBE CLU AND TRON HAVE IDEAS TOO  
_YOU TWO SIT TIGHT THERE, OK?

The reply from Sam came back quickly, and Kevin was relieved when he read it.

_SURE, WILL DO  
_I CHANGED THE LOCK, SO NO ONE'S GETTING IN  
_WE'LL BE RIGHT HERE  
_

Kevin gave a wry smile, and sighed. He didn't know how, but somehow they were going to figure this all out together. Just then Sam's reply came back.

_ONE MORE QUESTION REAL QUICK  
_HOW ARE YOU EVEN TYPING THIS?

_WHEN I CAME TO THE GRID, I WAS THERE IN THE ROOM  
_DIDN'T SEEM LIKE THAT WAS A REAL COMPUTER  
_DIDN'T THINK IT WORKED  
_

Kevin nodded, and couldn't help smiling again.  
His son didn't miss much. Definitely a chip off the old block there.  
He typed the reply.

_IT DOESN'T, UNLESS YOU'RE ME  
_IT'S A CREATOR THING  
_PREVENTATIVE MEASURE, GRID SECURITY  
_BUT EVEN AT THAT, SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO GET THRU TO THE REAL WORLD  
_CLU WORKED A MIRACLE HERE

There was a pause. Finally the words appeared.

_HOPE YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT HIM  
_BEING ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS, I MEAN  
_

Kevin's eyes narrowed. He could understand his son's reticence, and there would be time for Clu to prove himself. For now, Kevin simply asked for Sam to believe in him, even if he couldn't believe in Clu.

_TRUST ME SAM, HE IS  
_

Kevin paused a moment, then added a few more lines.

_OKAY KIDDO, GONNA TAKE FIVE  
_TIME FOR BRAINSTORMING  
_DON'T WORRY, I'M HERE THOUGH  
_WE KEEP THIS CONNECTION GOING AND WE'LL BE OK  
_

Just then, another line typed itself on the display.

_LOVE YOU DAD  
_JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW  
_

Kevin smiled fully now, chuckling as his eyes misted slightly.

_I LOVE YOU TOO SON

And then he added...

_YOU TOO, Q  
_

Kevin sighed, and sat back in the chair, rubbing his eyes.  
He was tired, but even more than he needed rest, he needed to think this through, to come up with at least some answers, or for that matter, to come up with even the right questions.  
No problems only solutions, right?... Right. That was twenty-one years ago. Obviously much had changed since then.


	36. Chapter 36

He was dreaming.  
Wasn't he? Of course.  
He knew he was dreaming.  
Why? Because he wasn't in the grid, and, because Jordan was there with him. He could hear her soft laughter in the hallway.

Kevin sighed and shifted slightly on the bed to lean against the headboard, holding his infant son in his arms. Amidst Sam's slight fussing sounds, Kevin was making soft silly noises of his own, trying to distract the baby, but Sam wasn't having any of it...he was hungry and he wanted his bottle. Kevin glanced up, smiling just as Jordan rounded the corner with the bottle, then he cooed down at his son with raised eyebrows and a sing-song tone.

"_Heyyyy look!...Sam sha-zam!...there's mommy!...and she's bringing you the yummy stuff!...yeah she iiiis!..." _He made a silly face, eyes wide, and Sam laughed in spite of his fussing.

Jordan laughed too, and handed Kevin the bottle, who in turn brought it slowly through the air towards the wide-eyed infant like it was a rocket-ship, steering it right to Sam who of course reached for it greedily when the bottle neared his face. _"Aaaaaaaand,... there ya go kiddo."_

And then there was quiet, as Sam suckled the bottle hungrily, eyes still wide, looking at his father as one of the tiny bootie-clad feet kicked steadily against the side of Kevin's arm.

"_...look at this!...the kid's gonna be the next Van Damme, I'm tellin ya'..."_

Jordan looked at him. _"Van who?"_

Kevin chuckled._ "...Jean-Claude Van Damme. Martial arts, he's one of those kick-boxers...sweepin' the circuit these days..." _Kevin smiled, nodding down at his baby son who was still kicking at his arm while happily devouring the bottle of formula, _"yeah,...but he's got nothin' on this one, though...bodacious left hook in the works here, look at that!...cute!..." _

Jordan gave Kevin a smirk.

"_Oh yeah, I know all about that foot, Kev,...you didn't carry him - not so cute when it's your rib cage."_

Kevin looked at Jordan, raising his eyebrow. _"Yeah,...bet that must've smarted way more than this...but,...wouldna' known it to look at you - you were like,... the most intrepidly happy pregnant woman I'd ever seen..."_ He quirked the eyebrow again, giving her the same devilish grin that got them into this position. _"...a goddess of motherhood,...really,... is-...is more like it..."_

She smiled, surprised by his flattering comment, and then her eyes narrowed, as she figured out his ploy. She nudged him, giving him another smirk as she stretched out on the bed. _"OH no you don't. You're not charming your way outta this...it's your turn to feed him AND change him too. Mommy's gonna' rest her feet just a little while."_

Kevin laughed, as he looked back at the infant and spoke in a soft voice, pretending to be exasperated.

"_Man, you see this?... this is what happens. Yep. Mommy's got me wrapped around her little finger..."_ he shifted the infant in his arms, setting the bottle aside and laying out the small square cloth over his shoulder before resting Sam against it, _"...yeah,...and so you you, kiddo,...you know it too, don't ya?..." _

He patted the baby's back softly. _"Okay,...do your thing, big guy,..."_

Kevin kept patting patiently, but apparently the baby didn't need burping. Instead he just laid his head against his daddy's shoulder, his tiny fingers idly reaching for a fistful of Kevin's dark-blonde hair, until he closed his eyes, yawned and slowly went to sleep.  
The next thing Kevin knew, Sam was snoring,...which was really odd considering that it was the sound of a grown man's snore coming from a three-month-old baby.  
Kevin was about to bring this to Jordan's attention when someone shook his shoulder, and a man's voice spoke. It sounded like Alan Bradley - what was he doing here?

"_Kevin?...Kevin!..." _

"_Hm?..."_ Kevin jumped awake, and his eyes opened to see Tron standing beside him, a hand still on his shoulder.

Tron stepped back and spoke. _"I'm sorry to startle you, but,... you powered-down into sleep mode while still sitting in your chair..."_ He paused, tilting his head, _"and also,...you... made an odd noise." _

Kevin sat up in the chair, rubbing his eyes, stretching his neck and looking around the room.  
One minute he'd been thinking intently, then he'd closed his eyes and the next thing he knew, Tron was waking him up. He yawned and looked up at the program with a slightly embarrassed smirk.

"_Yeah,...we call that 'snoring', Tron. Wasn't too loud, I hope?..."_

Tron shook his head. _ "No, not really. More just like a soft rattling..." _he quirked his head, thought a moment, then chuckled and raised his brows_, "...sounded a bit like a damaged processor actually."_

Kevin looked at him a moment, taken aback by the chillingly ironic simile that Tron hadn't even realized he'd made.  
_ ...like a damaged processor...  
...that's what you sounded like,...as Rinzler..._

Kevin managed a wry smile, noting Tron's oddly lighthearted demeanor...apparently he recalled very little of what had actually happened to him as Rinzler, which Kevin supposed was at least fortunate for the security program, though it still made him want to cringe to think of it.

Just then, Clu stopped pacing the room and walked over to stand beside them. He was about to speak when the lights suddenly dimmed, as did Tron and Clu's circuitry.  
Both programs looked at each other, but then the lights returned to normal, as did the glow of their suits. Then they looked at Kevin, who was frowning, looking around the room.

Then Kevin looked back at both Tron and Clu. _"You okay?.."_

Both programs nodded, slightly unsettled but seeming none the worse for wear.  
Kevin sighed, and stood, stretching his limbs, suppressing a yawn...tiredness was not an option at this point - they had far too much to figure out.  
He leaned over the keyboard to type something to his son, but then saw the message already on the screen.

_OOPS  
_THAT WAS MY FAULT  
_SORRY, EVERYTHING OK?  
_

Kevin typed back.

_YEAH, BUT WHAT HAPPENED?  
_

After a pause, the words appeared onscreen.

_TRYING TO READ WHAT IT SAYS ON THE UPS  
_DATE, SERIAL NUMBER, ETC  
_ACCIDENTALLY BUMPED THE CORD LOOSE  
_

Kevin nodded, and sighed, then typed the reply.

_TRY NOT TO DO THAT AGAIN OK?  
_BUT GOOD THINKING ON THE NUMBERS  
_MIGHT TELL US SOMETHING  
_

Sam replied almost instantly.

_YEAH, GOT EM  
_GONNA SEE WHAT I CAN TRACK DOWN  
_

Kevin typed again, this time settling back into the chair as he did.

_GO TO IT, KIDDO  
_WE'LL BE HERE  
_

Kevin turned in the chair, and looked at Tron and Clu. They needed a plan. Between the three of them surely they could figure out how to find Alan and still get to the portal in time.  
_...and speaking of time..._

"_How much longer we got, Clu?...for the portal, I mean?.." _Kevin looked at Clu.

Clu thought for a moment._ "...roughly point-six-eight of a mic-..."_ but then he stopped, paused to think again, and continued, _"...roughly five hours and thirty two minutes, in User world time."_

Kevin nodded at him, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. This was a bit of a first - Clu's choice to do a time-conversion between User world and Grid. With any luck, it would come in handy often for the program, that is if the three of them could somehow manage to pull off a miracle in the next five hours and thirty two minutes.

* * *

The arena lights flickered and dimmed to half-intensity, then returned to full strength as a sudden hush fell over the alarmed audience.

While thousands of programs' watched their own circuitry flicker back to it's normal state, a concerned Jarvis turned to look at the elite program who sat in the chair a few feet behind him.  
The program's face was obscured by an unreadable onyx face shield, the helmet angling only slightly before the robed, armored figure rose coolly and slowly strode towards the observation deck viewport of the newly re-rezzed mezzanine. A gloved hand waved the aide aside, and then the figure stood silently regarding the proceedings, the amber glow of his circuitry reflecting slightly against the viewport glass.

Jarvis knew better than to speak. Instead he cleared his throat and simply stood there, watching his superior's back. He couldn't help but observe that from this vantage point, the similarity was striking..._the same long caped robe with a single blazing line of yellow circuitry cascading down from the disk in the back, the same wide elegant sleeve cuffs trimmed with matching yellow rims, the same helmet and gloves trimmed in the stark, sleek angular yellow lines,...even the same slow, purposeful walk, movements and foreboding presence,...but it wasn't Clu._  
This mysterious new monarch was a thousand times more unreadable than Clu ever was, and more formidable.

In a very brief span of time - less than half a microcycle - this ominous figure and whatever nebulous regime which had spawned it had thrown the entire echelon of Clu's former command into a state of fear and paranoia, from the lowest ranking conscript sentries right up to Jarvis himself. Whereas Clu had certainly ruled with an iron hand and could be exceedingly cruel if his wishes were not honored, he'd at least followed a path of order, logic, reason, his primary objective being to enforce order in the Grid as well as amongst his ranks...however, his replacement seemed to favor cruelty for the sake of cruelty itself, and the methods he chose seemed chaotic. He'd deliberately inspired dissent amongst the ranks, then chosen scores of them to be deresolutioned as a practice session for "the new Rinzler".  
And after the spectacular escape of Kevin Flynn and Clu, the sentries who had failed to capture Flynn, along with a few spectators from the audience who'd been randomly captured, were all forced to compete to their de-resolution as a display to discourage weakness and insurgency, the winner of which would then go up against the Grid champion, the new Rinzler.  
That in itself was not out of the ordinary, however,...after the first brutal de-resolutions of the terrified spectators, the masses of programs in the audience had then recoiled and tried to leave the arena only to be driven back inside by a small army of sentries, and then commanded to watch as the combatants were forced to 'finish the game'.  
That was an unprecedented protocol, and one which Jarvis thought seemed not only unnecessary but also detrimental to the popularity and respectability of the games altogether.

And so it was that Jarvis was beginning to grievously regret his decision..._at first it had seemed a necessary and just endeavor to overthrow Clu's reign, when upon awakening from a system reboot he'd been informed of what Clu had done to him on the command ship, but now, having seen what had transpired since then, he resented the new regime and wished he'd never agreed to assist in its takeover._  
He was now more than ever simply a pawn, and one whose future, much as with that of the Grid, had every likelihood of bequeathing him only servitude, random brutality and uncertainties.  
And now, to add to the current list of uncertainties, it seemed the power to the Grid itself had just flickered, again.

The speculative aide wondered if that were by insurgent sabotage, or some bigger malfunction?  
Perhaps even the work of Clu - if perchance Clu had gone renegade after detaching his command ship and fleeing the arena?  
Or maybe,... it was the work of Kevin Flynn, the Creator himself?  
He just didn't know what to think. It puzzled and unsettled him, because it had never before happened, not that he could recall.  
And as for the Creator's escape, the fact that such an escape had had taken place, especially to the odd indifference of the new Grid commander, also puzzled him. He'd been under the impression that the three fugitives - Clu, Flynn, and Tron, the fractured program previously known as Rinzler – were all to be kept under strict surveillance in the mezzanine adjunct of the ship, and yet, when Clu's ship had detached from the arena, there was little attempt to follow and recoup them after the initial squad of sentries failed to do so. Instead, while the barbaric games continued in the arena, the new overlord of the Grid had simply strolled casually into the gaping mezzanine wearing Clu's robes, and then proceeded to rezz the place back to it's former appearance, minus the ship, showing a quick mastery of programming which rivaled if not surpassed Clu's own formidably adept skills.  
Then after that, it had been business as usual, and, no order or reason prevailed for why any of it was so.

Now Jarvis stood quietly aside, and from under his clear visor the silent assistant sighed, waiting patiently for his master to turn and instruct him as to what to do. Yet his master seemed unconcerned, and if he had a plan or a theory, he didn't seem interested in divulging it to Jarvis. Instead he simply waved a hand, turning his helmeted head only enough to intone a slightly peeved proclamation.

_"The crowd's attention is waning. It's a little early for the main attraction, but we need to give them something to renew their enthusiasm. Have Rinzler brought to the disk arena, now."_

Jarvis simply nodded his head and turned crisply on his heels, exiting the auxiliary mezzanine to carry out his orders.

* * *

The orange-red lights of the armored suit flickered and dimmed to half their ordinary glow. For a nanocycle the stalwart program seemed indifferent to the power flux, regarding it with only a low growled purr...until suddenly something else changed - the low steady hum pervading its audial sensors just...ceased. The helmeted head turned abruptly, then shook from side to side.

Instantly the gloved hands began frantically tugging at the helmet, struggling to remove it, before finally reaching instead to tug the disk angrily from the back of the suit. Gone was the electronically-produced purr. Instead, there was a soft muffled swear from inside the helmet, as shaking fingers pressed buttons on the disk repeatedly until finally the helmet deactivated.

"_What in the wide-open hell?..."_

Alan's eyes glared in complete surprise as he whirled around to look at the unfamiliar cell in which he stood...a huge empty room, with charcoal black walls, floor and ceiling, and only dimly-lit through ports in the cieling. He rand a hand through his silver-gray hair, which was as disheveled as his expression, and after a moment more of staring around at the unfamiliar surroundings, he finally hurled the disk across the room in frustration, where it spun and collided with the wall, de-rezzing a small chunk of pixels before clattering to the floor in two detached halves. He stared at the things, then stared around at the room again, gray-tinged brows plummeting into an irked frown.

"_Damn it Flynn!...so help me- ...what have you gotten us into!...and where the hell are you?...in fact,... where the hell am I?..."_

He took a step, and winced...his legs felt like lead, and every muscle he tried to move ached. _"Oh this __is just great!"_ He sighed, bending over and kneading the muscle in his calf which was doing the St. Vitus dance. He had no idea where he was, no idea how long he'd been there, and definitely no idea what he'd been doing prior to ending up there, but, from the way he hurt all over it was a pretty good guess he'd either stepped in front of a train, been trampled by a herd of buffalo, or gotten dragged along behind a truck like the Indiana Jones guy in the movies.

He stood looking around the enormous dimly lit room, his nerves on edge and confusion welling in him every time he tried to recall getting there. He knew he'd been brought back to his cell, fallen asleep, then awakened again by the guards who brought something akin to breakfast, and then he vaguely recalled being brought to the strange gymnasium place, and, that was it.  
Everything else was simply...blank.

A sudden noise made him freeze in place and keen his ears.  
Echoed footsteps, and the sound of a voice outside the door. _"We're to bring Rinzler to the games..."_ And then another voice, _"...again?...so soon?..."_ Followed by the first voice, _"...orders. I didn't question them."_

Alan listened, his frown turning to a puzzled expression.

_...Rinzler?...who the hell is Rinzler?..._

He tiptoed quietly over to the far end of the room, and bent to pick up the two disks.

_...well,...at least it's not me...  
...maybe they'll go find the Rinzler person and-...  
...Oh no!...that's right - Rinzler, was Tron!...  
...no, not Tron,...what have they done to him this time?..._

Alan's thoughts lurched with fear and uncertainty, suddenly wondering what had become of Clu and Kevin if Tron was Rinzler again. But there was little time to speculate, because suddenly a door rezzed open, and across the huge room stood two sentries in the doorway. The guards seemed quite shocked to see him, and he didn't know why...he was certain that of the three of them, he was by far the most confused. Then one of the ominous sentry programs spoke, advancing a step towards him as the other sentry scanned the room from the doorway.

_"What have you done with Rinzler?"_

Alan didn't answer, just shook his head. Apparently they thought he'd done something to Rinzler or knew where he was? Why? That didn't make sense.

But the guard stepped forward again, and Alan's glance shifted to the sentry's light-staff...he had a feeling a world of pain awaited him if he didn't say something.  
Then when the guard stepped menacingly towards him with the staff poised to attack, he responded with pure reflexive survival instinct, raising both the disks with shaking hands as fear and anger flared in him - he was no fighter but he'd be damned if some computer program was going to attack him with a weird glowing stick for no reason and get away with it.  
The next words which sailed right out of his mouth were also from reflex, combined with pure defensive posturing, an aggressive frown and a good old heaping helping of what salesmen called "the art of the bluff".

"_...same thing I'm going to do to you..."_

It had just popped into his mind, so he'd said it, trying to intimidate the guard. But the guard didn't back down, and was instead barreling towards him across the huge room. So he drew back one of the disks with a strength borne of pure panic, and discharged it, sending it spinning through the air like a toy Frisbee, whereupon it hit the sentry squarely in the chest, disintegrating the surprised program into hundreds of little cubic pixels which seemed to shimmer and dissolve into thin air. Alan was shocked to say the least, but there wasn't time to react, because now the second sentry was advancing across the room towards him. He tried the same move again, but the guard ducked aside, veering out of the way of his disk and charging at him with the light-staff. Alan jumped out of the way, then lost his balance and fell, raising his arms defensively at the sentry who turned and loomed over him, then he steeled himself for the blow he was certain was imminent.

Instead he was suddenly covered in a shower of shimmering pixels, stunned as he slowly realized what had happened - the wayward disk he'd thrown had missed it's mark and boomeranged back around, catching the attacking conscript from behind and de-rezzing it. The disk fell beside him and he stared at it, the fringe of tingling adrenaline subsiding.

_...that was,...really kind of cool..._

_...now,...how do I get out of here?...  
_

Alan picked up the disk somewhat warily, and then gathered it's counterpart. After a moment of fumbling with them, he saw how the disks fit together easily to form one disk. Then he sighed, smoothing his gloved hand through disheveled hair and looking at the open doorway of the cell.  
It was undoubtedly in his best interests to exit this place as soon as possible, and yet, where exactly was he supposed to go?  
Out into the completely unfamiliar streets, in this Grid with which he had no familiarity whatsoever?  
And he couldn't very well go walking out of here looking as he did right now. He would at least need a helmet, but he sure as hell wasn't putting that thing back on he'd had before...it made his ears ring horribly, and it was heinously impossible to see anything through it.

He stood holding the disk, thinking back to the discussion which he'd had with Kevin just after he'd been brought to where Clu, Tron and Kevin were...after having watched Kevin digitize his clothing into something which resembled Clu's, Alan had asked Kevin if he himself could digitize things the same way, to which his friend had replied..."_Sure you can do it, Alan...you're a User...you have User powers just like me..."  
_Then he focused his ragged thoughts, trying to recall the "rezzing" process, as Kevin had called it, but attempting to coax forth from memory the sequence of buttons he would need to press was like looking for a spider-web in a fog...challenging, to say the least. His mind still felt very groggy and there were huge blanks of time he couldn't remember at all.  
But he was a programmer, damn it. Surely he could figure this out.

After a moment of trial and error, he finally managed to enact the same sequence that Kevin had demonstrated with the disk's buttons, and now he could see the coding. It appeared to be very damaged, so he stood there for several moments tinkering with it, all the while listening to make certain he didn't hear more sentries approaching.  
Finally he repaired the sequences and set to the task of changing his attire.

He thought for a moment...what exactly was he supposed to wear?...he had no idea what the significance of all the various circuitry colors were on the Grid, and as for fashions, he had no idea what programs and Users wore on the Grid, other than those he'd seen.  
Finally he decided it best to stick with the same armored suit he had on, though he was fairly sure that with the red-orange circuitry colors the sentries would mistake him for Rinzler, and he was definitely sure that would not be a good thing.  
So he scrolled through the color codes, deciding upon blue, in honor of Tron...that had been his nickname for two decades anyway.  
Next he'd simply rezz a new helmet, sneak out of wherever this was, and figure out what to do next.

A few seconds later and he closed the access to the disk with the button sequence, replacing the disk onto the hub at his back.  
Theoretically his helmet should rezz the moment he removed the disk again. So he tried it. Sure enough, it worked. Good.  
He quickly replaced the disk, walked to the doorway, looked out into the hall. Deserted. Also good.  
He had no idea where he was going, but he had to go somewhere, so he summoned his courage, stepped out in the hallway, following as quickly as he could along the wall and disappearing around the bend.


	37. Chapter 37

Alan had scarcely gotten far around the bend in the curved hallway when he heard the electronic swoosh of doors sliding open, and then footsteps echoing from up ahead around the next bend. There didn't seem to be any place to hide along the corridor, and so he did the only thing he could...he turned and ran as fast as he could, and as quietly as possible, in the same direction he'd just come from. That wasn't easy considering his legs still felt like lead and hurt like hell, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter.

He ran past the open doorway to his cell, then passed several more closed panels within identical shallow alcoves, which he assumed were also cell doors. Up ahead was the end of the hall, which seemed to dead-end into a wall. He stopped, panicking when he heard the echoed footsteps getting closer, and then he noticed that beneath the last of the alcoves up ahead was actually an open doorway to something. He ran to it, looking back behind him quickly, and then nearly plowed into the elevator doors which sat back only a couple of feet inside the alcove. And there didn't appear to be any sort of button to press, only a small black shiny panel on the wall. _  
...oops...  
...well, this is disappointing..._

The echoed footsteps were much louder now. Whoever it was had just rounded the bend and was coming closer. He didn't dare peek out to look. Instead he stayed absolutely still, his back pressed to the elevator doors, praying that whoever the footsteps belonged to wasn't planning on taking this elevator. Then the footsteps suddenly stopped.  
_...the open cell doorway...  
...they're looking for me..._

He inched his face close to the edge of the alcove, hoping to very carefully catch a glimpse, but then the footsteps started up again.  
His heart pounded and he held his breath, listening to the echo.

_...they're going away?...oh thank-_

_...no, wait..._

_...they're getting closer!...  
...DAMN IT.  
_

Well there wasn't much he could do now, except maybe grab the disk off his back, but then what if it was another one of the guards with the light staffs? It wouldn't be wise for him to startle one of them _and _be armed with a disk too. If he remained unarmed, maybe the worst they'd do is put him back in his cell.

He braced himself for the inevitable, and within a few more echoed footsteps was suddenly face-to-face with a very surprised..._Jarvis?_  
The aide looked up, gasped and jumped back about two feet, having not at all expected him, or anyone, to be standing right there.

After having been quite startled, Jarvis composed himself, his expressionless demeanor returning. Alan could only manage a nervous, shaky gulp, not even sure what to say if he were to speak, and at this point, he didn't figure it would make much difference even if he did.

But Jarvis didn't speak either. He simply sighed, as if in thought, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Alan, considering him from head to toe, then looking him in the eye. After several very uncomfortable seconds, Jarvis looked casually to his right, then looked back at Alan, and finally spoke in almost a whisper, his voice clipped and his face still expressionless.

"_Go. Now. While you can."_

Alan's eyebrows shot upward, his jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide.  
Of all the things the quirky, imperious aide could have said, this was not at all what he'd expected. Stunned, he cleared his throat, then stammered, _"I-...wh-...uh,..I was, bu-"_

"_Shh!"_ Jarvis' staccato hiss and stark dip of the chin let him know his voice was too loud, and the aide glanced again casually around the hallway before looking back at him.

Alan's eyes remained wide as he absently gestured a gloved hand towards the small nondescript onyx panel beside the elevator doors, then finally managed a coherent word in the form of little more than a mouthed whisper.

"_...how?"_

The aide gave him a patronizing look, then pressed his hand over the panel and the doors slid open. And with that, he turned and walked back down the hall.  
Alan stepped into the elevator, feeling more than a little stupid for not having realized it might be a motion-sensor switch. For some reason that had seemed far too simple for the Grid.

The doors closed, and he looked at a panel with only two buttons...G and A.  
The "G" most likely meant "ground", but he wasn't too sure about the "A".  
Matter of fact, aside from assuming he was somewhere within the same building where his other cell had been, he had no idea where that even was,...which was going to make this trek very interesting since he had no bearings, no destination, and no plan, other than to search for Kevin, Clu and Tron.

He pressed the "A", and the elevator descended. An electronic voice chimed from a small speaker on the wall, _"Armory"_...and when the doors slid open, he saw a room that he vaguely recognized - the vast room which looked like a cross between a hangar and a gymnasium, where the strange women in catsuits had rudely insisted upon stripping him down to his boxers, twice.  
Nope. Not going there again.

He pressed "G". And the doors slid closed.  
A moment later, the electronic voice chimed again, _"Grid level..."_  
He raised his eyebrow with a sardonic smirk.  
_...ah, of course. How silly of me. Grid-level, ground, same thing...  
_It was going to take him a while to get acclimated to this place.

The elevator doors opened, and he cautiously stepped out into a dimly lit hallway which he discovered arched around in a circular fashion just like the one upstairs. Towards the farthest end of the corridor that he could see, was some sort of large door. He reasoned that perhaps this was some sort of service entrance, because that's what it looked like.  
He quickly headed towards it, looking around as he quietly slipped along, but the huge corridor was empty, with no sign of any sentries, nor any programs at all. The place was deserted and so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Upon reaching the large door, which he noted looked a lot like a very sleek garage door, he stood looking up at it, then scanned all around for some sign of how to open it. Finally he spotted one very small panel which was mounted high above the door and angled out from the wall slightly. It had to be some type of long-range motion sensor, because only a giraffe could have reached it.

He quietly looked around, stood beside the door, and tried to position himself directly beneath the panel, then after looking around the corridor again, he waved his arms at the sensor.

Nothing.  
Then he stepped wide and moved side to side, while waving his arms.  
Nothing.  
Then he stood on tiptoe, stepped wide, and moved side to side, while waving his arms.  
Still nothing.  
Except that had made his calf cramp up again.  
He bent over to grasp his leg in pain, swearing softly before he'd even realized he'd uttered a word. _"Damn!"_

And then the door slid smoothly upward. Apparently the sensor was voice-activated, unless for some reason 'damn' was a magic word on the Grid.

He stood up straight, looking through the open doorway at what appeared to be yet another sort of corridor, though much more shallow and dimly lit.  
_...huh. Well. Interesting..._

He glanced around again, then limped through the open doorway into the next corridor, quickly realizing it wasn't a corridor but a sort of a ramp. To his right side just past the doorway was a wall, and to his left the ground sloped down for about twenty-five yards and led around a corner. He could hear a slight hissing, interspersed with a very soft intermittent tap-tap sound, but a look around the small corridor didn't reveal anything which could be making the noise.  
Then he noticed that as he walked down the ramp the noise got progressively louder.  
_...some sort of machinery?...an air-ventilation system?...what?..._

When he reached the bottom of the ramp he turned the corner, and discovered what the noise was.  
It was the last thing he expected to see here – rain.

_...rain?...on the Grid?...wait – rain in a COMPUTER?..._

On the up-side,...he'd made it out of the arena structure to the Grid, and far more easily than he'd expected, thus far without being discovered and/or apprehended.  
On the down-side,...apparently it was raining, he had no umbrella, and was clad in a lighted suit full of circuitry.  
If he stayed there, he'd likely be discovered sooner or later, but, it if he walked outside into the rain, what would happen to him then? Would he fry instantly? He didn't know...he had no frame of reference, because, in his reality, or at least in the one he'd left to come here - the one which actually followed the laws of physics - rain and computers did not mix.

Then it occurred to him - this wasn't real water. It was only a simulation.  
_...use your head, Alan..._.  
Of course. A simulation. After all, the buildings which he could see through the downpour weren't frying, and they were all trimmed in lights. Everything was trimmed in in lights.  
In fact it was all the most magnificent looking thing he'd ever seen, really. And the glistening simulated rain only made it that much more magnificent.

He smiled, and stepped out onto the walkway, laughing when the rain didn't even make a sensation as it fell onto his skin.  
_...this is amazing!...  
_

Just then he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye which made him flinch, something up in the sky. He looked, and through the shimmering mist of tiny drops which fell he could see a very familiar shape gliding along over the tops of the buildings in the distance.  
_...Space Paranoids...the Recognizers!...  
...that's exactly what they are!..._

Then of course he realized that's exactly what had picked him up outside of the arcade, or at least, the place which looked like a very ultramodern version of the arcade.  
And he wasn't sticking around to let it pick him up now...the streets and walkways were deserted, and he'd be spotted very easily standing right where he was. Sheer adrenalin propelled him and he darted across the walkway, ignoring the agonizing ache in his muscles as he ran across to an adjacent building, then ducked into the alcove at the front entrance. He plastered himself up against the wall, remaining very still, and waited.


	38. Chapter 38

Clu had wandered upstairs to the arcade simulation. Tron was still slowly pacing the floor by the back wall of the lab simulation, his head held down in quiet thought. Kevin stood up from the chair at the console desk, about to speak to Tron, until movement on the interface display caught his eye. Words were typing themselves, and so he sat back down, reading as they appeared.

_DAD I NEED TO LEAVE THE LAB FOR A FEW  
_WANNA GO TAKE CARE OF SOMETHING REAL QUICK  
_IT'LL MAYBE TAKE 30 MINS, TOPS  
_IS OK?

Kevin typed back.

_SURE KIDDO  
_THINK WE CAN SPARE 30 MINS NO PROB  
_BUT WHAT'S UP?

The reply appeared rather quickly.

_NOTHING BAD  
_JUST WANNA GO GRAB SOME THINGS  
_STUFF TO SECURE THIS PLACE A LITTLE BETTER  
_SECURITY CAM, JUST A SIMPLE ONE  
_SO I CAN SEE WHAT'S OUTSIDE  
_

Kevin's eyebrows raised. He knew his son was tech-savvy, but that sounded like quite an undertaking.

_YOU GONNA INSTALL IT?  
_WHERE ARE YOU GONNA GET ONE IN A HALF HOUR?  
_

Sam's reply reminded him of just how long he'd been out of the loop in the real world.

_EASY, DAD, NO BIGGIE  
_JUST A SMALL BATTERY OP CAM  
_PROLLY GOT ONE AT THE SPY SHOP NOT FAR FROM HERE  
_SIZE OF A BALLPOINT PEN OR SO  
_I CAN HIDE IT IN THE TREES, SEND THE SIGNAL TO MY CELL PHONE  
_

Kevin sighed. That sounded complex. He certainly had been away for quite a while,...if cameras could do all that now, and were that small to boot.  
And, they had actual spy shops now? Things sure had changed since the days when spy shops were mail-order scams in the back pages of a Mad Magazine.  
It made him a bit sad, uneasy, to think he was this much out-of-touch with technology, and with his world.  
Plus, he felt out-of-touch with his son's entire life, too...a perfect example of that being, he had no idea who the friend was that Sam had mentioned.  
But more than that, he worried and wondered - was this hidden camera stuff even legal to do?  
Sure, he'd once upon a time pulled a few risky pranks himself, back in his younger days, but nothing like that. He didn't want Sam getting into any trouble, especially not because of him. He couldn't help the fatherly instinct which made him want to worry - he was in fact a father, even if he'd spent the better portion of his son's life trapped on the Grid. But should he even mention his concerns? Was he just being overly protective?

He sat there thinking for a few seconds, then finally sighed and typed back something simple.

_SOUNDS INTRIGUING  
_HEY WHO'S THIS PROLLY PERSON?  
_

He was baffled at the reply he got.

_ROFL, DAD!  
_

Rofl? Who the hell had a name like Prolly Rofl?  
The name just oozed scuzzy, like a porn name or something.  
And why did his son think he was supposed to know who that was? He was about to type back and ask just that, when Sam's reply continued.

_SORRY, THAT WAS JUST FUNNY :)  
_FORGOT YOU DON'T KNOW WEB SHORTHAND  
_PROLLY IS SHORT FOR PROBABLY

_AND ROFL MEANS  
_I'M ROLLING ON FLOOR LAUGHING  
_

Kevin's eyes went wide, and he gave a chuckle, feeling rather foolish for having worried and definitely more than a little estranged from what had now become real-world modern culture. He sat back in the chair and laughed again, then shook his head, unable to keep from talking to himself as he looked at the screen.

_"Whaaat?...okay the ROFL thing I get, but,...what- these kids today can't type a full word?...that's just-...man that's silly!" _

Tron walked over to stand nearby, looking at Kevin and quirking his head with a curious expression. _"Everything alright, Kevin?"_

"_Hm?..."_ Kevin looked up at him, a bit startled, then realized he'd spoken aloud. He gave a smirk, then chuckled, _"Oh. Yeah. I'm,... just,...well, ...realizing I'm as old as Methuselah, for one thing...but yeah, everything's fine..."_

Tron nodded succinctly, not even glancing at the screen. Instead he gave a soft smile, turned and walked quietly back across the lab. Kevin looked after him for a second or two, chuckling to himself...that was Tron - always the polite gentleman. The security program hadn't wanted to intrude on his privacy.

Kevin looked back at the screen, then suddenly got an idea. He smirked, then sat forward in the chair, typing again.

_ALRIGHT KIDDO  
_GO DO YOUR THING  
_BUT HURRY BACK  
_DON'T GIVE YOUR OLD MAN GH

_GH MEANS "GRAY HAIR"  
_LIKE IT?  
_MADE IT UP JUST NOW  
_

He smirked, and chuckled. A second later the reply came back.

_CUTE, DAD

_U DON'T NEED ANY MORE GRAY HAIR  
_WHICH MEANS I'LL HURRY

_:)

Kevin chuckled again and shook his head, seeing the "u" used in place of "you".

There was a lot Sam was going to have to catch him up on about the world.  
However, there were a couple of things he was going to have to catch Sam up on, too,..._like the fact that he might feel as old as Methuselah but he now looked the same age as Clu - maybe 35-ish,...more like an older brother to Sam than a father. _  
And then there was the, '_Oh, and, meet Clu, my new twin brother' _thing. That was gonna be a bit weird to explain to the world.  
But no weirder than any of the rest of it.

He sighed, snapping out of the prognostications, then typed again.

_HEY KIDDO, TELL YA WHAT

_I'LL CLEAR THE SCREEN FROM THIS END

_PAGE ME WHEN U GET BACK  
_WE CAN OPEN THE DIALOGUE LINK AGAIN  
_

He chuckled at himself, using the "u" as Sam had. Then came the reply.

_WILL DO

_TTYS – TALK TO YOU SOON

He smiled, typing back a simple " :) " as his reply, then entered a string of code. Line after line of numbers began to scroll down the screen. Then there was only a blank screen with a simple blinking cursor...Sam would be seeing the same thing on his end.

Then Kevin stood, stretching his arms and walking over to sit down on the floor with his back against the wall. Tron looked over at him, watching as the creator folded his long legs into the lotus position.

"_Gonna' knock on the sky and listen to the sound..."_ Kevin grinned, closing his eyes. Then he opened up one eye to look at Tron, adding, _"...not gonna' snore this time." _

_

* * *

_

Jarvis' footsteps echoed in the corridor as he slowly made his way towards the elevator. The sound of the echo was as hollow and null as he felt inside.

This was an interesting turn of events he'd engineered for himself.  
On a rebellious whim against his superior, he'd just allowed a prisoner to go free.  
And it wasn't just any prisoner, it was the champion of the games - Rinzler.  
Or, rather,...it was the one who'd been chosen to replace the old Rinzler...Alan Bradley, the first ever re-purposed User, who presented a myriad of hope for the new regime which sought to someday re-purpose every User in the User world. Even he himself at one point had relished the serendipity which had brought the User right into their hands as an unsuspecting test subject.  
And ironically, the User was once Rinzler's User - that is, the old Rinzler, once known as Tron.  
And the old Rinzler - or, Tron that is - had escaped with Clu and Flynn...how very fortunate for him, actually, considering the new elite never planned on his ever being a champion again, or ever even fighting again for that matter. Instead they'd intended only to torture him by making him watch the games perpetually until he grew despondent, and then they would've had his own former User - the new Rinzler – challenge him and publicly derezz him, in a battle not even the old Rinzler could win. Or Tron, that is.

Jarvis sighed. _Old Rinzler, new Rinzler, Tron, re-purposing...whatever. Oh User, what did it even matter what any program was called anymore? _

How very convoluted it all was, anyway.  
He'd be glad to be finally done with it - which he was fairly certain he would be whenever his new master learned of Rinzler's disappearance...he would be done with it, because the new regime would see him as a traitor and be done with him...as in, de-resolution.  
And while de-resolution wasn't something he relished the thought of, it seemed preferable or even merciful in fact, when compared to spending an infinity of cycles in degrading subservience to a ruling class which cared not a whit for him yet sought to control his every move and thought.  
And so, while what he'd just done was inherently self-destructive and probably indirectly suicidal too, it had at least been his way of taking a stand, of hopefully bringing the unacceptable to some sort of halt, even if it meant his inevitable demise.

He sighed again, boarding the elevator. During the ascension to the mezzanine level, he took a deep breath, preparing to face his superior and announce Rinzler's disappearance. But when the elevator doors opened, however, there was his master standing right in front of him, the silent helmeted gaze fixed on him.

This wasn't good.

Jarvis' thoughts lurched, and uneasiness settled in to his circuits. The aide genuflected into a slight bow, capitulating to the fate which he himself had deliberately engineered as he prepared to meet whatever wrath he was sure awaited him.  
But no wrath was forthcoming.  
Instead, the ominous figure wearing Clu's robe simply gave a mock bow of his own, moving aside and allowing Jarvis to step from the elevator, and then boarding it himself.

At this point the confused aide had no notion as to what to think or expect, but he certainly wasn't going to discuss the issue of Rinzler. In fact he was going to pretend all was fine and go about 'business as usual',...because that appeared to be exactly what the elite was now doing, even as their heinous influence wreaked havoc on the Grid. He wasn't sure if that was some strategic feigned ignorance, or if it was just sheer cold-blooded apathy on the part of the tyranny, but, he mused to himself, whichever it was, two could play that game. And so he commenced to do just that.

_"Your Excellency..."_ Jarvis spoke in the usual requisite subservient tone to his master, _"...shall I prepare to announce the main attraction soon?" _

The onyx helmet tilted to the side just a fraction, and the slightly-muffled voice answered with a snarky, patronizing tone. _"Isn't that your job?"_

Jarvis cast his eyes downward and gave a nod, as his superior continued speaking.

_"I'll be...away...for... a while. But I'll be keeping tabs on things here. In my absence, you'll want to see to it that the games proceed exactly as they should."_

And with that the elevator doors whisked closed.

Jarvis sighed yet again, then turned and walked to the console panel desk.  
Indeed, it would be business as usual.

He seated himself at the circular desk to prepare the announcement for the games. While surveying the console, his eye wandered inconspicuously across the surveillance displays from the arena's exterior plaza. Casting a casual glance around the empty room, he then touched the screen until a view of the arena's exterior perimeter appeared, then he nonchalantly scrolled through the different views until he found the one in line with the detention and holding-bay service entrance. The receptors should show a clear view of the streets for several blocks beyond the arena itself.

The aide hummed to himself quietly, appearing for all practical purposes to be doing his job...and this was after all part of his job, to peruse the area periodically.  
There. He spotted him.  
Dimly, at a distance, but that was him. The User, who wore Rinzler's markings, except now with circuits which glowed blue.  
He was standing in the shadowed recessed beneath the MP3 production tower across the street.

Jarvis reached to a small interface on the console, and sent a signal to the helmet. The display showed no response. A tracer then confirmed that the signal was not being received by the helmet.  
The aide sighed, mentally chastising himself for the oversight...of course the helmet's signal wasn't working - how else had the User had the presence of mind to eliminate the sentries and escape his cell to begin with. Which suddenly reminded him ._..let's just eradicate that little piece of history right now, shall we?...  
_  
He scanned through the recent recordings of the holding cells, finding Rinzler's, then he played back the past few microcycles...the lights dimmed, then the User removed his helmet, then sentries entered the User's cell, and then the User single-handedly derezzed both of the sentries, doing so without the aid of either the strength-enhancing alchemy they usually dosed him with before battles or the helmet's hypnotic subliminal signal which removed his will and drove him on command. Jarvis mused at this.  
_...impressive... _  
He then watched as the User then decrypted and recoded his own disk, and re-rezzed his suit to change colors.  
_...also impressive... _  
This just served to show how the regime did tend to underestimate User powers and ingenuity - that was how Kevin Flynn had escaped the arena as well.

Jarvis typed a series of codes, creating a glitch in the recording time-span, effectively deleting the entire sequence after the lights had dimmed and then disabling the surveillance feeds to the entire holding bay. Given the unprecedented recent power-fluctuations, it would appear as a natural malfunction to anyone who happened to consult the playback.  
Then the crafty aide smiled casually to himself.  
He'd just done his second rebellious deed, and he knew it was the right thing to do.  
Now to move on to more business as usual...announcing the games, and running the arena in his master's absence.

* * *

The elevator whisked down to the Grid level, and then the robed, helmeted figure emerged onto the interior plaza level, strolling leisurely along until finally exiting the arena.  
He walked to the very edge of the platform where a multitude of stairs led nearly two stories down from the exterior plaza to the street, and there he stood relishing the quiet, surveying the expanse of city as far as he could see.

Gone were the previous crowds who'd blanketed the plaza waiting to get in when he'd first arrived...now they were all in the arena, and they would not be leaving anytime soon. The sentries would see to that.  
He looked down at the streets. Deserted, just like this plaza, which was as it should be. All was going well.  
However, it was raining, which he found less than ideal, and so he simply bent down, placing a gloved palm on the ground.  
Instantly the rain ceased.  
This ability pleased him, as it always did.  
Oh to feel this way in the real world, to be this powerful there too.  
If he had his way, that just might be the case, eventually.

He smiled from within the helmet, retrieving the disk from his back and pressing the buttons to enter a series of code, then he looked at the disk, his smile turning to a devious smirk.  
_...thanks Flynn... _  
Replacing the disk to his back, he stood amidst a brief shimmer as pixels rearranged and the yellow-trimmed robe derezzed, leaving just the armored light-suit.

Then he backed up a few steps, and with a running start he clicked the baton, leaping right off the side of the plaza's elevated edge and into the air. The small light-jet rezzed around him just in time for him to bank it quickly upward to avoid the ground, and he chuckled to himself as the adrenalin from the stunt subsided. From there he swept the jet up into the clouded skies, setting a course for the portal.

* * *

Los Angeles

The basement lab was quiet and empty now, in the wake of Sam and Quorra's departure. The computer still hummed, but only a blank screen and a blinking cursor graced its display monitor. All around the dusty shelves looked as they always had...covered in dust and frozen in time, relics from some erstwhile part of Kevin Flynn's life.

Suddenly a bright flare washed the entire room in white as a figure suddenly appeared, standing in front of the console desk.

He opened his eyes, staring in front of him at the desk and monitor, as a maelstrom of confused thought took hold.  
_...what am I doing back here at this place?..._

He felt light-headed as usual, legs weak, his thin body suddenly seeming much heavier than it normally did. This was the hardest part, and he still was never prepared for the huge energy drain which seemed to happen upon returning from the Grid. Exhaling a sigh he steadied himself with his hands against the desk, bending at the knees slowly.  
_...well, might as well sit and rest for a minute..._

He dropped back wearily, expecting to fall into the seat of the desk chair, and fell right onto his rump on the floor instead. Dark brown hair swept down in a disheveled mop of bangs across his eyes, and the glasses fell to the floor, jarred loose by the impact of his fall.  
_...OW!...what the-?  
...damn it!... where's the chair?..._

He felt around for his glasses and put them on, swept the hair out of his eyes and then sat there a moment, getting his bearings, looking around the room. He'd rezzed out of the Grid and somehow ended up back in the lab at Flynn's, which wasn't supposed to have happened.  
_...I was supposed to end up in my office...  
__...wonder if the-_

That thought was stopped when he glanced across at the box underneath the desk, leaning his head forward and squinting his eyes.  
Sure enough, a tiny red light flashed on the front of the router.

He slowly crawled under the desk and reached to inspect the router more closely. The cable was unplugged from the computer.  
_...how'd that happen?..._

And then his eyes narrowed, a perturbed growl escaping his throat at the thought. Sam Flynn.  
_...how else!..._

He reconnected the cable, reset the router, and crawled back out from under the table, slowly getting to his feet and brushing the dust from his trousers.  
Then he stood up straight, fumbling around in his pockets for his keys.  
_...time to get back to the office...  
...'course,...I'll have to take a cab I guess...  
...what day is it, even?...still Friday?..._

He fished out his cell phone from the pocket, and turned it on, waiting until it booted and then pressing the screen menus to access the calendar.  
_...Saturday...  
...hm...  
...well, good..._

This would give him a chance to spend some time in the office undisturbed...he could grab some dinner, draft a memo saying he was taking a few days' more leave-of-absence, and then zap himself right back into the grid.  
He smiled to himself...having a duplicate of the digitizing laser constructed in his office at ENCOM was the smartest thing he'd ever done. It took a huge chunk of family money, sure, and a total redesign of the coat-closet plus some sophisticated new locks on the doors to keep the project a secret, but, it was all well worth it. It meant he didn't have to mess with this old place much, and though apparently now Sam Flynn had decided to nose around here, he'd take care of that issue soon enough.

He slowly ascended the stairs, then crawled through the opening, pushing against the back of the Tron machine until it released and swung forward on its mechanism. Then stepping into the arcade, he pushed the game machine back into its normal position and headed towards the entrance.

Opening the front door, he looked around at the desolate, run-down street, and then stepped outside, shutting the door behind him and jamming his key in the lock.  
Something was instantly wrong. The key didn't turn at all. He fussed with it, jiggling it and trying his best to get it to turn, but it wasn't budging.  
_...stupid old lock..._

Then he suddenly noticed it wasn't an old lock, but a new one.  
_...damn it!...who-...son of a-...  
__  
_He sighed. _  
...no,...son of Flynn..._

His eyes narrowed, and he stood there wanting so very badly to just kick the door.  
He ran a hand through his hair, looked at his watch, looked around again.  
He couldn't very well leave the door unlocked.  
But then again, he sure as hell didn't have much of a choice.

Just then he heard the distant sound of something which made his skin crawl and sent spiky jolts of adrenalin through him...a motorcycle engine. And it was getting closer.  
He panicked. No choice now – he was leaving the door unlocked.  
He whirled around, and, seeing no options for places to hide, he took off running down the side-street next to Flynn's, cursing under his breath at having to do this much strenuous activity so soon after getting rezzed back from the Grid. He saw the outlet of an alley just up ahead, and he sprinted, ducking into the alley and crouching behind a huge air-conditioning unit next to the building, warm air from the unit's exhaust fan blowing his bangs right back into his face. Then he sat there quietly catching his breath.


	39. Chapter 39

Los Angeles

* * *

Sam stood at the door of the arcade, trying to untangle the keys. He hated it when this kind of thing happened, and it usually happened at the most inopportune times...the door key had somehow gotten itself wedged inside the containing ring of his key-chain, which meant he had to stand there and fiddle with it to get it loose. And that was the last thing he had patience for right now.  
But thankfully the key jangled itself free from its entanglement when he shook the keyring, and then he stuck it in the new deadbolt lock...only to find that the tumblers were already turned over.

The door was unlocked.

Swearing under his breath, he turned the doorknob with a sigh, pulling open the door as he looked back at Quorra.

"_Man that wasn't cool at all. I ran outta' here and didn't even lock it. Thought I did. But obviously not."_

Stepping into the arcade, he looked around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, then mentally reprimanded himself for having gotten in such a hurry that he'd have allowed himself to forget something as simple and vital as locking the door.  
_...slow down, Sam...  
...that coulda' been a really bad thing...  
_

Quorra stepped in, and he closed the door behind them, turning the lever on the deadbolt. _"Well, it's locked now."_

Once in the basement lab again, Sam went straight for the keyboard, typing in code strings to contact Alan's pager, eager to open the lines of communication once again with his dad.  
A glance at his watch, and he shrugged.

_...not too bad...gone forty-two minutes, instead of thirty..._

He stood upright from the desk, stretching his back and wishing he hadn't sent the desk chair to the Grid.  
Scanning a glance around the room, he noticed a large box which sat along the far end of the wall beside the shelves. He walked towards it, tried picking it up, but the box didn't budge. It was extremely heavy, too heavy to lift, so he slid it away from the wall somewhat, coughing at the dust which stirred around it in a small cloud.  
_...what the heck's in here?..._

Flipping open the box lid kicked up even more dust, and Sam was taken aback when he saw the box contents - it was filled to the top with books...hardbound copies of _The Digital Frontier_ by Kevin Flynn. He gave a wry smile at seeing the old books again..._The Digital Frontier...s_o much a part of his childhood and his life, and yet a part which, prior to just recently, would have filled him with only more maudlin depression to even recall, but now it represented the fact that his dad was still alive and living in that frontier, even if he was held hostage by it.

He closed the box lid, then examined the box itself...certainly sturdy enough to sit on, especially being crammed to the top with books, and he didn't reckon it would damage them, so he wrestled the box out of its spot, dragged it across the floor to the computer desk, and then sat down on it.  
_...hm...seats a bit low, but,...better than standing..._

And then he looked up at the display monitor. After his page, his dad had enabled the link, and now on the screen waiting for him was Kevin's message.  
But it wasn't at all what he'd expected, and it froze him with dread.

_HEY KIDDO  
_GLAD YOU'RE BACK

_WE'VE GOT A SMALL PROBLEM THOUGH  
_THE PORTAL ISN'T OPEN ANYMORE

Sam typed back furiously.

_DAD WHAT HAPPENED?

And the reply came back quickly.

_DON'T KNOW  
_DOESN'T MAKE SENSE  
_CLU WENT UPSTAIRS TO CHECK ON THE SHIP  
_SKIES DARK ALL ACROSS GRID AND CITY  
_NO BEAM OF LIGHT ANYWHERE  
_SHOULD'VE HAD 5+ HRS LEFT

Sam sat there staring at the words, knowing what this meant but not wanting to face it.  
The portal was the only means of exiting the Grid, and it should have remained open a millicycle after Alan's transport there, but, now it was closed. To his knowledge, there was only one explanation for how it could have closed, and that was if Alan himself had left the Grid, which hadn't happened. Or else he would probably be standing here right now.

_WHAT DO WE DO NOW?  
_AND WHAT DID YOU MEAN, UPSTAIRS – SHIP?

Sam sighed, ran his hands through his close-cropped hair, and looked at Quorra, who had walked over and stood silently eying the screen with wide and uneasy eyes.  
The message from Kevin typed itself onto the screen.

_I'M NOT SURE WHAT WE DO, KIDDO  
_BUT THE SHIP IS CLU'S  
_THAT'S HOW WE GOT HERE TO THE ARCADE  
_IT'S PARKED ON THE ROOF

And then as though his dad had read his mind, the message continued typing.

_WASN'T ALAN  
_HE'S TRAPPED IN THE GAMES  
_HE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO EXIT THE GRID ANYWAY  
_NOT WITHOUT MY DISK

Sam idly reached to touch the small data encasement he wore on the chain around his neck - the equivalent of his father's disk, but with the entire Grid backed up on it. He wondered how Kevin had a disk now, but that was only one thing in a long list of things which didn't make sense. He glanced over at Quorra, who stood with head lowered and was solemnly staring at the floor, still with the same brave demeanor but there was sorrow in her eyes. Sam looked up at her, catching her eye, and then reaching across to pat her arm.

"_It's okay Quorra,...we're gonna figure this out. We will. We'll get him outta' there. We'll get both of them outta' there."_

She nodded, and mustered a small smile, lifting her chin. Sam knew it was partly posturing, and he didn't completely believe she was feeling all that brave at the moment, but then again, at the moment he didn't quite believe they'd find a way to get Kevin and Alan free from this, either. He didn't see how. This whole thing was turning out to be just one endless, frustrating riddle, a web of complex possibilities.

A web. That gave him a thought.

_DAD, WHAT IF IT HAS TO DO WITH THE INTERNET?  
_THE BOX I DISCONNECTED?  
_SOMEHOW WOULD IT MAKE A DIFFERENCE?

Sam had the sudden gnawing hunch that maybe it actually could have made a difference.  
Then he felt a wave of remorse at the thought that he could have somehow inadvertently severed the one lifeline his dad had to the real world.  
Ever the impulsive one, he didn't wait for Kevin's answer to his questions before he leaned over and crawled under the desk to reconnect the box...

...and then sat staring in disbelief at the network cable which was once again plugged into the back of the computer.

"_Holy f-...what the hell?"_

He didn't touch the cable.  
Instead he scrambled to get out from under the desk, banging his head on the desktop in the process and swearing under his breath.  
Then he sat back down to pound hurriedly on the keys, typing a whole slew of sentences all at once.

_DAD SOMETHING'S WAY SCREWED  
_JUST NOW CHECKED AND THAT BOX IS RECONNECTED  
_I DISCONNECTED IT, I KNOW I DID!  
_SOMEBODY'S BEEN HERE?  
_WE WERE GONE WHAT 42 MINUTES?  
_BUT THERE'S NO OTHER WAY  
_ I KNOW I DIDN'T RECONNECT THAT THING  
_I'M GONNA DISCONNECT IT NOW THOUGH SURE AS HELL  
_OR SHOULD I?  
_I DON'T KNOW  
_THIS JUST BITES

The reply came back almost instantly.

_SAM, CHILL  
_DON'T PANIC  
_LET'S THINK THIS THROUGH FIRST  
_HANG ON A SEC OK?

Sam sat back, exhaling a sigh, tapping his fingers on the desktop.  
Then instantly he was on his feet and pacing, while Quorra stared at him quietly. The look in her eyes mirrored what he felt – completely baffled and alarmed - and he could imagine she had a thousand more questions right now than even he did, but she was gracefully containing them within silent, stoic demeanor.

After several long, tense seconds, he looked back at the screen as Kevin's words appeared, and they baffled him even more.

_KIDDO, LEAVE IT BE  
_ DON'T DISCONNECT IT  
_GONNA GET CLU WORKING ON THIS FROM HERE  
_SEE IF WE CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT IT DOES, WHERE IT GOES

_IF THERE'S A BACKDOOR CLU WILL FIND IT  
_AND HE WILL FIND OUT WHERE IT GOES

_THAT'S WHAT I ORIGINALLY CREATED HIM TO DO

Sam's frustration drove him onward, his fingers pecking the keys quickly.

_YOU REALLY TRUST HIM DAD?  
_I MEAN THIS COULD HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH HIM

And the reply came back, words appearing steadily and slowly, unlike Sam's fevered typing.

_YEAH KIDDO, I DO  
_HE WOULDN'T BE HERE WITH ME IF I DIDN'T  
_AND NO THIS ISN'T HIS DOING  
_SOMEONE NEW RUNNING THE SHOW  
_AND HE'S AS MUCH A VICTIM OF IT NOW AS I AM

Sam leaned his head onto his palm, exhaling softly.  
He knew he had to trust his dad, even if it felt like blind faith right now to do so.  
But still there was no denying that Kevin Flynn's patient, easygoing and forgiving nature, along with his idealistic outlook, were what had gotten him trapped in the Grid to begin with.  
He hoped his dad wasn't wrong about Clu this time.  
_...Trust...Blind faith...what a time to have to develop those..._

Just then more words appeared onscreen.

_DOOR LOCKED, RIGHT?  
_LOCK CHANGED NOW?

Sam typed back a "yes". And then Kevin continued.

_OK, WHOEVER DID IT CAME IN WHEN YOU LEFT, RIGHT?  
_BUT NOW THE LOCK'S CHANGED SO THEY CAN'T

Sam cringed for a second, then typed right back. Here was the part where he was going to feel really dumb.

_YEAH I CHANGED IT BEFORE WE WENT  
_BUT APPARENTLY FORGOT TO LOCK IT AS WE LEFT  
_IT WAS UNLOCKED WHEN WE GOT BACK  
_SO WHOEVER GOT IN JUST WALKED IN

There was a long pause before the words appeared onscreen. This time he was very grateful for his dad's patient, easygoing and forgiving nature.

_LET'S TRY NOT TO LET THAT HAPPEN AGAIN, OK?

_IF YOU AND Q CAN JUST STAY THERE, AND KEEP THAT DOOR LOCKED  
_YOU SHOULD BE FINE  
_YOU HAVE FOOD?

Sam thought about the question. He wouldn't exactly call a small vending-machine pack of peanut butter cookies and a granola bar "food", but then again he didn't feel much like eating right now.  
There wasn't much room for anything else in his stomach besides nerves. And he guessed the same was true for Quorra. But if they developed an appetite in spite of the stress, they'd order a pizza and have it delivered.

_YEAH, WE'RE GOOD  
_WILL STAY HERE, DON'T WORRY, NOT LEAVING  
_GONNA GO CHECK OUT WHERE TO PUT THE CAMERA THOUGH  
_SOMEPLACE OUTSIDE

There was another pause, and then his dad's reply came back.

_IF YOU'VE JUST GOTTA MESS WITH THAT RIGHT NOW  
_THEN TRY THE LOFT WINDOW INSTEAD  
_THAT WAY THE CAMERA WON'T BE ON RISKY GROUND  
_BUILDING'S MINE BUT THE SIDEWALK AND TREES AREN'T  
_SEE WHAT I'M SAYING?

Sam thought about that for a second. He had to admit it made sense, and, for an idealistic easygoing programming genius, Kevin Flynn sure had a good legal head on his shoulders too.  
Previously Sam hadn't really stopped to think about this very far ahead, but, incurring any sort of hassle because of privacy laws really wasn't what they needed on top of everything else right now. Sure, all of the other buildings on the street were deserted and hardly a soul came by here, but still there was the possibility that any unforeseen thing could happen to make it all backfire, and right now getting into some sort of convoluted trouble just for trying to trap whoever the interloper was didn't seem worth the risk, even for a daredevil like him. The law was still the law, as was Murphy's Law, and right now they needed both the law and Murphy on their side instead of working against them.

He sighed, and typed back the reply.

_GOOD POINT, DAD  
_THINK I'LL FORGET ABOUT THE CAMERA THING ALTOGETHER  
_TIME BETTER SPENT WOULD BE HELPING YOU FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO

And his dad's reply made him smile. Yeah, there was that old easygoing Kevin Flynn again.

_I THINK THAT'S A VERY WISE IDEA, KIDDO  
_THE GRID IS THE REAL ISSUE AT HAND ANYWAY  
_AND THE INTERNET THING IS PART OF IT  
_GIVE ME AND CLU SOME TIME TO WORK ON THAT  
_AND I'LL BE RIGHT HERE, OK?

Sam sighed. How was it his dad could be reduced to data, trapped inside of a computer, and still be as calm and easygoing as ever about things,...yet here he was out in the real world, walking around in normal everyday life, and wanted to put his fist through a wall just from sheer frustration?  
Probably because he was powerless to do much else other than wait right now.  
And because what was happening to them was really kind of far from what could be considered 'normal everyday life'.

He typed back an "OK" as his reply, then stood up, glancing at Quorra who still stared quietly at the screen, her face set with worry.  
If only he could find some way to take her mind off of all this, since there was nothing she could really do at the moment.  
Then he suddenly glanced back down at the box full of books...reaching into the box, he grabbed one of the copies and handed it to her, managing a slight grin and a shrug.

"_Hey, while we're waiting...check this out. Think you might like it."_

Her eyes lit up when she saw the cover and she immediately opened the book she'd often heard her mentor speak of before. then smiled upon seeing his picture on the inside jacket. The photo was taken in his younger days. Why Kevin Flynn had never rezzed it for his library and given it to her to read, she wasn't sure, but, she had a feeling it was one of his _"when the student is ready the teacher will appear"_Zen things. She smiled again, and Sam gestured toward the box, offering her his seat, whereupon she sat and dove into the pages with zeal.

He watched her for a moment, and then he slowly paced the floor...thinking, waiting, and working on developing that blind faith.

* * *

The cab ride was at least a chance to rest.  
The fact that he'd even come across a cab to begin with in this bleak and largely-untrodden neighborhood was a sheer streak of luck, as was hailing the driver to stop for him...especially given his disheveled appearance at the moment – a mop of dark brown hair blown all over his head by the exhaust from of the air-conditioning unit he'd hidden behind, gray business slacks dusted with dirt from the alley parking lot, vest wrinkled all to hell and the blue striped shirttail half-untucked.

Smoothing a hand through his hair and adjusting the thick-rimmed tortoise glasses, he rested his head back on the seat and watched the dismal urban-industrial buildings and street-scapes roll by outside the window. From the Grid to here...quite a rude transition. And not at all the one he'd expected.  
But at least he'd managed to get away from the arcade before Sam Flynn had caught sight of him...to have been spotted by his nemesis definitely wouldn't have been an acceptable divergence from his plan.

It seemed like many days, if not weeks, since he'd left for the Grid, though it had been scarcely more than a day. He wished getting to the office by cab was as easy as digitization...instead it would be a rather boring twenty-minutes, and there wasn't even a radio in the cab. He sat forward in the seat again, fiddled with the seat belt, stared out the window, and then remembered his cell phone in his pocket - checking voice-mail would give him something to do during the ride.  
Touching the screen he saw no voice-mail alerts, which he guessed was good, but there was a text message alert. He touched the screen again, and then chuckled at the irony...a message from Alan Bradley from two days' previous which he hadn't even bothered to read before..._Ed, I'd like to meet with you Monday morning first thing. There are some revisions to the press-releases we need to discuss. Regards, Alan._

Ed Dillinger Jr. chuckled again to himself, muttering under his breath as he deleted the message and tucked the cell phone back into his pocket.

_"Hm,...yeah, somehow I really don't see that happening, Alan."_

And then he stared out the window again, still smiling to himself, suddenly enjoying the ride much more.

A half hour later he stood in his office, finishing the last of the sushi rolls from the place just up the street from the ENCOM Tower.  
The meal was a much-needed rejuvenation after the Grid, as was the green tea. Changing into a fresh shirt didn't hurt matters either. He'd been so exhausted earlier after rezzing unexpectedly back to the arcade office, but now as he stared at the door to the small room where he kept his secret lab...the laser behind that door practically beckoned him to the Grid again.  
Maybe he'd just skip the nap, boot up the system, send a quick email to notify the board he'd be on vacation, check to make sure the network was properly reconnected, and then rezz right on in again. He could always take a nice nap behind his opaque helmet while at the game arena, and no one would be the wiser.  
Besides, right now, the thought of returning to the Grid was far too tempting to even think of sleep anyway. So he locked his office door, stepped into the small lab, locked that door behind him too, and then sat down at the computer.


	40. Chapter 40

Clu sat at the console, eyes fixed on the screen, his hands steadily typing. He was searching through the entire system, sector by sector.  
Every so often he would stop to pore through string after string of code, adding integers, analyzing, slowly gathering the data he needed, assimilating information, and then he would begin typing again, trying one approach after the other until something worked, only to start the process all over again once he proceeded onward to the next level.

Kevin had stood watching over his shoulder for several moments, seeing the parade of codes which rained down the screen, and feeling quite a sense of pride that his program was so adept at this...extreme focus, flawless patience, almost infuriating amounts of determination...it reminded him of himself many years ago, but Clu was far more skilled at this than he ever was, and far less impatient or impulsive.

Suddenly the display lit up with something Kevin recognized even more clearly...the data from his son's identity disk. He raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit uneasy as well as curious.

"_Clu,...whaaat're you doin' man?"_ his voice had a slower than usual drawl to it, and his eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze from the screen to the doppelganger program's face.

But Clu didn't look back at him, only kept staring at the codes on the screen as he answered very matter-of-factly.

"_First I created a partition in the system which is accessible only from this endpoint,...and now I've accessed Sam Flynn's stored identity disk data - I'm uploading everything he knows about this modality your world calls 'the internet', and storing it on the partition for cross reference at the same time." _

Kevin's brows raised, and he slowly grinned.  
Watching Clu work this way gave Kevin even more insight into just how unique his control program's innate genius really was – Clu was not only impeccably efficient at gathering information, he was deceptively forward-thinking, often employing seemingly-random methods which sometimes didn't make sense at all until they were examined backwards.  
This was one of those times.  
Because,...while he didn't like the thought of Clu's having intimidated Sam upon his arrival at the Grid, nor did he care for the intrusion into his son's life history via identity disk...he did have to admit that recalling the disk data now was a pretty brilliant coup - having it would allow Clu to use Sam's internet savvy and his own hacking skills to find a pathway into the device which now was connected to the old Apple in the lab.  
And then they would be able to eventually find out who put it there, and why.  
The why part was something which might take a bit more work to find out, but, they were at least on the right track with the who.

While Clu sat studiously uploading, Kevin quietly walked a few steps away, being careful not to disturb Tron who was sitting nearby on the floor. The program was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, powered down for some rest.  
The Creator tiptoed past him, then walked quietly to the back wall of the room and slowly paced back and forth, his thoughts wandering to the issue of the device in the lab.

This just infuriated him, and confounded him. Someone had accessed his lab, and his machine, while he was away on the Grid. There was no telling how many times it had happened, or what else they'd done to alter the machine, but the fact that the computer was now connected to this modern internet just unsettled him to no end.  
It went without saying that the potential danger this presented to the Grid was almost incalculable. But what really boiled him over inside, what really made him the most livid, was that someone had accessed his lab and his computer without his permission, when he wasn't even there to be asked.  
That wasn't just trespassing, it felt like a personal assault...that machine was his, that lab was his, that arcade was his - never mind that he'd been away on the Grid for twenty-one years.  
Matter of fact, the Grid was his too, and someone else had helped themselves to it and then changed everything around, twisting it to become only a sad aberration of itself, causing all manner of chaos which he himself now had to contend with and to somehow repair, along with Clu's help, and Sam's.

Kevin sighed. As he considered all of the factors, he wondered what would happen if Sam just reloaded the backup data of the Grid itself.  
It would essentially be like doing a hard-drive erase and reinstalling everything, but if that happened while he, Clu and Tron were on Grid, who knows what it would revert them to...all the repairs he'd done to rebirth Tron from Rinzler...all the positive growth and change in Clu plus the eradication of his logic glitch which had caused The Purge to begin with...all of the ways that the three of them - himself, Clu and Tron - had grown back into the solid team they once were so long ago...all of those changes would likely be lost with a system restore, not to mention what would happen to Alan in the process.  
Kevin wasn't willing to risk any of that happening.  
He'd simply have to wait until they'd found a way to escape the Grid before anything about its current configuration could be altered.  
He shook off the thoughts, sighed and slowly started towards the interface desk.

Suddenly Clu sat back in the chair, and turned to look at Kevin. _"There. All done." _

Then he stood, grinning proudly at his Creator. Kevin's grin matched his, as he glanced at the display.  
Clu had returned the screen to blank, along with the cursor and dialog protocol they'd been using to communicate with Sam.  
Kevin placed a hand on Clu's shoulder, patting it lightly. "_Thank you Clu,...that's some great work, man." _

Clu simply nodded, his grin widening.

Kevin nodded towards the chair. _"Let me just let Sam know where we're at with this...ok?"_

Clu stepped aside, nodding again in reply as Kevin sat down to type a message.  
But just then, the cursor disappeared from the screen, and instead an all too familiar series of words began to appear, scrolling down the screen as the processes completed themselves.

ACCESS CODE 6

PASSWORD SERIES PS 17 - ACCEPTED

CODE SERIES LSU-123... ACTIVATE

INITIALIZING...

Kevin's eyes widened in shock, and he looked instantly at Clu, who stood equally shocked, staring at what was taking place on the screen. _Digitization._  
Clu spoke first, his brows knitting into a baffled look of concern.

_"Kevin!...What's happening?...Is Sam __trying to-"_

"_Oh surely to God not!..."_ Kevin interrupted him, hands jumping to the keys and trying feverishly in vain to override the sequence, but nothing was working.

_"Damn it Sam, no!...what are you-"_

INITIALIZING... COMPLETE

The words now appearing onscreen stopped him mid-sentence, and all he could do was stare. This part of the process was irreversible.

Mag 10X MODE: LOCK  
MCP CNTRL TARGET  
ACTIVE INPT LOCK ON  
SERVO CNTR  
GRID MATRIX  
LOG DATA  
GDNCE INPT  
STRGE CLRD FRG MNTR  
KCW CNTRL  
THERMO TRGT

ACTIVATE...

100% COMPLETE

SCAN ACCEPTED_

The process was completed, and now the cursor simply blinked.  
Kevin stared at it, dumbfounded.  
And then he looked at Clu, who mirrored his astonished expression.  
What had just happened?  
Sam would have been standing right in front of them had he digitized himself here.

Just then the pager went off, beeping and startling them both enough to flinch visibly in unison.  
Kevin sighed, picked it up and looked at its view-screen. 07734.  
And then another page arrived right after it. 07734.  
He gave a sigh of relief to know Sam wasn't doing this, but now they had to contact him. It would seem his son was just as baffled and frantic as they were, and understandably so.

Kevin rubbed his worried brow, and shook his head as he stared back at the display screen. This non-stop chaotic turn of events they'd been hit with for nearly a millicycle was beginning to wear him down to the point of total exhaustion. He mumbled, staring at the display._ "Jeez...what,...is going on here?"_

Clu glanced at at his Creator, seeing Kevin's worried look and tired appearance. He knew intuitively what the next step should be, and so he leaned over Kevin, reaching across to the keys to type the sequence which would reinstate the dialog box to the User-world arcade. Then he stepped back out of the way as the blank screen and cursor appeared, and he nodded at Kevin. _  
"Go ahead,...it should work now..."_

"_Thanks Clu...I'm just-...well,...stunned I guess.."_

Kevin's voice trailed off, distracted, his fingers touching the keys hesitantly at first and then typing the message.

_YOU OK KIDDO?  
_WHAT'S HAPPENING THERE?

The words appeared in reply quickly.

_I DUNNO DAD, NOTHING ACTUALLY  
_BUT WHAT'S WITH THE SCREEN?  
_DID YOU DO THAT?

Kevin shook his head, typing.

_NOPE, WASN'T US  
_WE THOUGHT IT WAS YOU  
_DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON  
_DID THE LASER INITIATE?

There was a pause, then the words appeared.

_NO, IT'S UNPLUGGED, DISCONNECTED  
_I DID THAT EARLIER  
_DAMN THING CREEPS ME OUT, DAD

Kevin sighed, and he couldn't help but to chuckle wryly. He knew just how Sam felt...right now the damn thing was creeping him out too. In fact this whole damn thing was.  
While he was glad there wasn't a danger of Sam being accidentally rezzed back into the Grid from there, they were now left with the unanswered question - where were the initialization commands coming from, and why? He sat forward and typed.

_SO THE LASER'S OUT OF THE LOOP, GOOD  
_EVERYTHING ELSE NORMAL THERE?  
_I MEAN AS NORMAL AS CAN BE THAT IS?

Sam's reply was at least a reassurance.

_YEAH, I GUESS  
_DOES THIS MEAN SOMEONE'S GONE TO THE GRID?  
_WHERE ELSE BUT HERE COULD THEY DO THAT FROM?

Kevin frowned, exhaling a deep sigh, then after a few seconds he replied.

_DON'T KNOW SON  
_BUT WE'RE GONNA FIND OUT

He turned to Clu, his brow arching.

"_Clu, can-...can you access the main system in real time?...I mean, safely,... without causing a loopback to here which would give us away?"_

Clu thought for a second, then gave a slight nod, his eyes calm and confident. _"Yep. Sure can."_

Kevin nodded. _"Please do..." _

He stood up and moved out of the way, gesturing to the chair as he smoothed his hand through his disheveled hair. _"..we need to see if there's a new User on the grid. If so that means there's a new portal too..."_

"_Yes it does. We'll find out."_ Clu's voice was softer, his eyes narrowing as he thought through the string of processes needed to accomplish this. He sat down at the desk and was about to touch the keys when Kevin spoke again, stepping towards the chair, seeming addled.

"_Oh,...man, ...wait, guess I need to tell Sam what we're doing first,...'cause it'll blank the screen from his end..."_

Clu nodded, tilting his head to look up at Kevin. _"Would you like me to tell him for you...since I'm right here?"_

Kevin took a deep breath, thinking about it.  
He supposed there was no time like the present to get Sam started towards seeing Clu in a better light, if that was even going to be possible.  
Exhaling slowly, he shrugged, placed his hands on his hips and nodded, _"Sure, man,...go for it..."_  
Then he turned and stepped back from the chair, his thoughts a silent snarky monologue in his head.  
_...well... this oughtta' be interesting...  
...might go over well...  
...or,...might go over like a fart in a diver's suit...  
...guess we won't know till we try..._

He watched as Clu typed the message.

_HELLO SAM  
_THIS IS CLU  
_I'M GOING TO ACCESS THE SYSTEM  
_IT WILL BLANK THE SCREEN ON YOUR END  
_WE'RE GOING TO FIGURE THIS OUT  
_DON'T WORRY

Kevin stood watching the display with a wry expression, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
He was trying not to hold his breath in anticipation of what Sam would say.  
After a few seconds' delay, the reply typed onto the screen.

_OKAY

Clu turned to look at Kevin, and they both shrugged.  
After another delay, more words appeared.

_WHAT – ME WORRY?

Kevin chuckled. His son had his same sense of humor, that was for sure. Even in the face of extreme stress and an awkward situation.  
Then just as Clu leaned in to type the code which would clear the screen, more words appeared.

_CLU?

Kevin winced. His son also had his same loose-cannon side, and he knew that quite well.  
_...Oh boy...here it comes..._

Clu typed a simple reply.

_YES?

After a slight delay, the response followed. It wasn't nearly as bad as Kevin had expected.

_DON'T EVER HURT MY DAD AGAIN  
_OR ANY OF US  
_NOT EVER AGAIN  
_I MEAN IT

Clu was silent a moment, looking at the screen. He looked up at Kevin, quiet remorse fleeting across his expression, and then he turned back to the screen and replied.

_I WON'T  
_YOU HAVE MY WORD, SAM FLYNN

Clu paused, his head tilting slightly and his brow furrowed in thought, and then he began typing again. Kevin was taken aback as he watched what Clu wrote to his son.

_I APOLOGIZE FOR THE PAIN I CAUSED  
_I WAS FOLLOWING AN IMPOSSIBLE DIRECTIVE  
_AND DID NOT KNOW THAT AT THE TIME  
_MY APPROACH WAS COMPLETELY WRONG  
_I WILL ATONE FOR IT BY HELPING TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT  
_AND I WILL PROTECT KEVIN FLYNN FOR AS LONG AS I EXIST  
_I WILL DO THE SAME FOR YOU, QUORRA, TRON, AND ALAN-1

One more pause, and Clu continued typing. Kevin watched, raising an eyebrow.

_IF YOU CAN FORGIVE ME  
_IT WILL PROBABLY MAKE YOUR FATHER VERY HAPPY  
_HE IS ALREADY VERY PROUD OF YOU AS IT IS

Clu sat back in the chair. Kevin looked at him, tilting his head and giving a wry grin.

"_Clu,...man,...when we get off of this Grid,...'just might make you my personal life-mentor. You're way better at this kinda' stuff than I've ever been..."_

Kevin paused, placing a hand on the program's shoulder as his grin widened, _"...and I'm not just proud of Sam - I'm proud of you, too."_

Clu looked down at the keyboard, suddenly feeling a bit bashful, and then had the odd sense of feeling happy and sad at the same time, along with that strange happenstance again - the one whereby his eyes seemed to want to fill with moisture, which was a very strange sensation indeed. Tears.  
It had happened once before at the arcade simulation, just after they'd first awakened from the re-integration.  
And he found it most embarrassing, because he couldn't seem to control it very well.  
After a second, Clu blinked, tightened his jaw, and looked back at Kevin. The strange emotions seemed to be stuck somewhere around his throat, so he felt it best to simply nod.

Kevin responded by patting Clu's shoulder, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he gave that familiar warm smile which always seemed to light up his whole face. 

"It's ok, buddy."

They both glanced at the screen, to see that Sam had typed a reply.

_YEAH  
_I'LL WORK ON IT - FOR DAD  
_GUESS I'M PRETTY PROUD OF HIM TOO

Kevin's smile widened and he nodded, his own eyes getting misty with tears.  
He turned quickly and walked a couple of steps away, a slight sniff the only give-away of his emotions. After a moment he chuckled, turning back towards Clu.

"_Aw man,... enough with the mushy stuff...before this turns into the Phil Donahue show or somethin'..."_

Clu gave a tilt of his chin, slightly puzzled.  
Kevin chuckled, scratched his forehead self-consciously, and waved dismissively. _"...never mind. It was before your time, buddy..."_

Then Clu leaned back to the keyboard and typed back to Sam.

_HERE WE GO, SAM  
_YOUR DISPLAY WILL GO TO BLANK FOR A WHILE  
_THEN WE WILL BE BACK ONSCREEN WITH YOU SHORTLY

After a slight pause, the reply came back swiftly.

_OKAY

Another pause, then more words appeared.

_I JUST WANTED TO SAY  
_GOOD LUCK AND WE'RE ALL COUNTING ON YOU  
_:)

Reading the words, Clu smiled, and sat up straighter in the chair, suddenly feeling very encouraged and proud of himself.

Meanwhile Kevin got Sam's joke, tried to suppress his laughter, raising his eyebrows and covering his mouth with a hand, before finally bursting into a splutter of stifled giggles much to Clu's confusion.  
Clu looked over at him strangely, and the more the control program looked at him so seriously, the funnier it got.  
But Kevin forced down the laughter as best he could, covered his mouth with his hand again, and stared back at Clu, a grin still on his face and shoulders quaking with silent mirth.

Finally Clu just smirked at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes, his expression mildly indignant. _"And why is that so funny?"_

This for some reason made Kevin lose it completely, nearly doubling over as his voice broke into a falsetto and he howled with laughter.

Now Clu was dumbfounded, staring. He'd never seen his Creator act quite like this.  
Finally Kevin recovered his composure, catching his breath, giving an audible 'whoo' of a sigh and waving his hand.  
Then he pinched the bridge of his nose, and finally spoke, still grinning and shaking his head.

"_I'm-...I'm...sorry, man,...it's...a joke-... a silly joke...between me and Sam,...it's from a movie-...uh,...Airplane...we'll watch it sometime...it's-...you'll...you'll think it's ridiculous...but it's really funny..."_

Clu was no less puzzled, but his expression softened to settle upon a bemused look, and he just nodded slightly before finally focusing his attention back to the display.

When Kevin had finally stopped chuckling, he sighed, dabbing at the corners of his eyes.  
He knew his fit of laughter was partly just the desperate silliness vented by an overly-stressed mind, but that was also just one of those moments you couldn't not laugh at.

But just then, he remembered Tron was powered-down a few feet away, resting.  
He glanced over suddenly prepared to be contrite for his outburst, but somehow miraculously his laughter hadn't seemed to disturb the program in the least. Tron looked not unlike a statue of Buddha, settled into the same position he'd seen Kevin assume during meditation, his circuit-trimmed legs folded across themselves, gloved hands resting placidly against his thighs, and eyes peacefully closed as he leaned against the wall.  
Kevin smiled, very content to let Tron rest - the security program had sure been through enough to have earned it.  
He walked back over to lean against the opposite wall, closing his eyes and letting his thoughts drift, while Clu hacked his way into the main Grid system.

The process took far less time than Kevin would have expected.  
After several moments of silence, Clu's voice startled him and he opened his eyes, then stepped forward.

"_Kevin...there is in fact a new User on the Grid, located currently in the game arena. Portal is active, for...about-... in User time,...seven hours and thirty-five minutes more. Now let's trace back to see if we can find where the User's origin was..."_

Clu's voice trailed off as his fingers clicked at the keys.  
Kevin listened to the sound, his thoughts drifting off again...this time he was wracking his brain - who could this be, and from where?  
To his knowledge, Lora Bradley's old laser was the only one of its kind, though of course whoever had gained access to his lab could have emulated it, but, without schematics that wouldn't have been an easy task. Then again, someone at ENCOM would have access to the schematics, and he didn't want to think of who most likely would have any sort of interest in trying such a thing.  
But really, given the added factor of the internet in this equation, the new User could be anyone, from any location in the world.  
He sighed. That really narrowed it down.

"_Well, this isn't right,..."_ Clu's voice broke the silence, _"...the entry point shows as...here?"_

Frowning, the program tapped his fingers impatiently on the desktop for a few seconds, and then resumed typing. A few more seconds, and then a grin slowly quirked at the corners of his mouth...he was using the knowledge of the internet which he'd gleaned from Sam Flynn's disk, and soon he'd discovered just how the User had gotten to the Grid - by running the laser's programming remotely from another location, yet staying housed behind a firewall which concealed that location and then bouncing the transmission, so that for all outward appearances the origin would appear to be Flynn's Arcade. But it wasn't.

Clu raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. Then he started in with a blend of his own special expertise plus Sam's, tracing across several servers where the transmission was bounced, then creating a masked program to bypass the origin's firewall, entering a sub-network, looping back to ping the internet service provider, accessing a records-check by way of another masked program, and,...within a couple of User-world moments, he had the true location.

He turned back to Kevin. _"Got it. The web's spread all over several continents,...but, there's the spider."_

Kevin stepped close, and then stared at the address on the screen.  
ENCOM Tower West, 1150 South Olive Street, Los Angeles, California.  
His jaw dropped.  
This was just one more time his intuition had been correct, but, this time it was uncomfortably so.

He stood there with thoughts reeling through all sorts of possibilities and considerations, none of which he really wanted to face, and he was about to speak when Clu turned back around to the display, commenting as he typed. _"Now let's go back to the Grid..." _

A few more string commands and the Grid overlay showed on the display screen.  
Clu's eyes narrowed.

"_Interesting...we show not one but two Users in the sector of the Game Arena..."_

He glanced back at Kevin, _"...one of them has to be Alan-1."_

Just then a thought occurred to Clu, and he resumed typing again, this time accessing the spatial coordinates of Jarvis' disk, and then zooming in to view a more detailed overlay of where the User signals were located in relation to his former aide...and just as he suspected, only one of them was nearby.  
Right in the same room in fact - the arena mezzanine observation deck.

Clu smirked muttered under his breath, _"Well I somehow doubt that's Alan..."_

Kevin leaned over Clu's shoulder, watching intently as Clu scanned the entire arena facility. No sign of the other User's signal. Then he backed out of the zoomed view slightly, enough to span the external grounds of the arena and show the entire sub-sector. There at the edge of the screen was the node which represented the User's signal.

Clu's head tilted slightly. _"That's got to be him...but...he's escaped?...unless they've got him on a patrol?...let's see if we can get a visual..."_

He zoomed in to find the coordinates, locking onto them and then hacking in and syncing up with the Grid's aerial surveillance systems. A few more commands and then a real-time visual appeared on the screen. Clu zoomed into the views, and there was a program moving along on foot, stealthily, cautiously, moving along the side of a building. It didn't look like he was on patrol. It looked like he was trying not to be seen. Then the program stopped and stood against a wall.  
Two more zooms and Clu could see the detail of the program's light-suit...the ever-familiar T-shape of the lights across the front. The circuits weren't red-orange...they were blue.  
Clu and Kevin looked at each other, both of them grinning.  
It was Kevin's voice which said it first, ringing with hopefulness.

"_Tron!...that's Tron's suit!...that's Alan!"_

Across the small lab-simulation room, Tron jolted out of sleep-mode and bolted upright, untangling his legs from the meditation position to sit forward, appearing slightly addled.  
He had obviously heard his name, which, despite all the earlier commotion, had been the one thing which roused him from his peaceful state into a state of readiness.  
His voice was still groggy and rebooting, but his eyes were alert and his circuits were lit to full waking power. _"What?...I'm here...what's wrong?..."_

Kevin spun around, startled, and then grinned at Tron. _"We found Alan-1!...he's escaped the arena!.."_

Tron was scrambling to his feet and blinking his widened blue eyes, the hopefulness in his Creator's voice transferring to his own expression as he walked to stand next to Kevin. _"Oh thank User!...is he alright?..."_

Kevin took a deep breath. _"We don't know yet...but-...I say let's go get him and see,...yeah?" _

He looked at Clu, seeking his agreement. Clu nodded, then quickly began to sync the node coordinates and Grid views with his own disk. That would be vital in order for him to track the User's movements once they got aboard the ship. When the data was gathered, Clu turned to Kevin. _"Do you want to let Sam know?"_

Kevin nodded emphatically, and Clu prepared the screen dialog codes. Then he stood up, stepping aside to let Kevin have the chair.

But the Creator stood there looking back and forth between both programs with his brows raised and a slight grin, _"You realize what this means,...right?...First we go get Alan, and... then,...there's the portal waiting, and..." _he paused, raising his arms to pat each of them on the shoulder at the same time, his grin turning to a full smile which lit up his face in a way they hadn't seen in many cycles. _"...boys,...we're goin' to the User world!"_


	41. Chapter 41

Alan had been standing against the darkened wall of the building for what seemed like hours.

Each time he'd tried to proceed forward towards the sidewalk, something creepy would happen to send him scurrying back into the shadows.  
Once it was because of some strange bug-like creature as as tall as his mid-calf which darted out from the gutter recesses of the walkway and scurried along behind him, nipping sharply at his ankles as he walked and shocking him with some kind of current each time it did. He'd finally taken his disk and whomped the thing, cutting it in half, whereupon its two halves then got up and scurried off into the same recess from whence its previous whole self had emerged.  
That was just bizarre enough to make Alan stomp right back over to the wall of the building and stand there hidden and still in the shadows, because he was concerned that if he didn't stay there a whole flock of the things might come back for revenge.

Then twice more he'd retreated to the same shadows because he'd seen a Recognizer swoop through the sky, and the second time it came far too close for comfort, skimming over the top of a nearby building. As the impossibly brilliant beam of light trailed down from it searching the street, he'd had the wherewithal to hit the ground instantly and dive under what looked like some type of bench along the walkway, remaining motionless and hidden beneath it until the thing finished its hovering and then levitated away into the clouded skies.

Now he stood again in the shadows, hiding against the same wall of the same enormous building, having moved approximately fifteen yards along the wall since first running across the street from the arena to hide there.  
This was getting him nowhere fast.  
He was going to have to either brave the walkway, walk along in the shadows, or just sit down and stay there until whatever passed for the sun in the Grid decided to rise.  
If it ever did.  
But he also knew that if there was a sunrise on the Grid, he'd be spotted much more easily. His instincts told him he had to keep moving while it was dark. He was going to have to keep watch for Recognizers, and just get over his new-found phobia of whatever that self-replicating bug thing was which had munched at his ankles on the sidewalk.

He was just about to muster the courage to do that, when something beside him moved in his peripheral vision.

He jumped, startled, and looked over to see a small silvery-gray object literally floating in the air beside him. It was faceted with small geometric planes but mostly round in shape, and about the size of a racquetball. It seemed to want to hover at his shoulder, turning its facets over and over as it floated, and when he moved, it moved.  
He tried swatting gently at it, and it simply dodged, swerved and came right back to hover beside his shoulder.

Alan sighed, and muttered to himself, _"Oh great. Does this place get any weirder?"_

Suddenly the thing flared a bright glowing yellow as it morphed into an octahedryl shape, and he could've sworn he heard the faint echo of an electronic voice as it answered a muffled, monotonal, _"Yes."_

His eyes widened, watching as the thing morph back into its previous silvery-gray shape again.  
Then he frowned, still staring at it.

...we_ll,...that answers that..._

He tried stepping forward again, and the thing moved with him, hovering along at his shoulder.  
Then he stepped to the side, and it followed in that direction too, dancing along in the air almost playfully.  
This thing was like a floating pet rock, which wouldn't be all that bad except that it would likely draw more attention to him.  
And also, he had no idea whether the thing was potentially harmful.

He decided to find out.

Reaching out a finger very slowly, he pensively touched one of its facets, drawing back his hand almost reflexively when his fingertip met what felt like smooth metal.  
The thing didn't respond to his touch, just continued to spin around and float in the air.

He exhaled a resigned sigh, and decided to try speaking to it again. _"You're not going to harm me, are you?"_

Instantly it morphed into a strange multifaceted spiky star-like shape which glowed bright red, and the same muffled electronic voice said, _"No."_

Well, that was progress.  
Now if it could only tell him exactly where he was, and how to find Flynn, Clu, and Tron.

"_Where are we on the Grid?"_ he asked it.

The thing stayed as it was, and just kept spinning.

_...oh, sure,...**now** it clams up..._

He tried another question._ "Can you tell me how to find the Creator?"_

This time it made the red spiky shape and answered, _"No."  
_And then it morphed back into its gray form.

_...interesting... _

"_Do you know who the Creator is?" _

And now it made the yellow octahedryl shape again. _"Yes."  
_It danced around in the air, then reverted to its gray self.

"_Do you know where the Creator is?" _

Then came the red, spiky shape again._ "No."_

"_Do you know where we are?"_

Once more the yellow octahedryl shape appeared. _"Yes." _

Alan frowned, and stood thinking._  
...hm,...now we're getting somewhere... _

So the thing was only able to answer questions with a 'yes' or a 'no'.  
The programmer quirked his head to the side and looked at the geometric object.

"_You're a bit,...aren't you?..."_

And the yellow shape flared brightly this time as it answered emphatically, _"Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes!" _and then flipped around in the air excitedly.

He couldn't help but laugh at it's response...it seemed happy that he'd guessed what it was.

_...only yes's and no's, huh?...  
...this is going to make communication somewhat of a challenge...  
...well,...just have to ask the right questions I suppose..._

He looked at the bit, and smirked. _"You floating around in the air beside me is going to draw a lot of unnecessary attention. So, are you going to try to bite me if I carry you down the street with me instead?"_

The bit made the red, spiky shape again, but danced just as mirthfully in the air, even spinning around him and toppling itself into somersaults._ "No-no-no-no-no-no!"_

Apparently it thought that question was funny.  
It even bumped gently up against Alan's shoulder, nudging him before returning to bounce and spin in the air happily.

Alan sighed. It seemed the bit was attached to him.  
And he couldn't very well leave it here. Because it was apparently going to follow him no matter what.

It was sort of cute, come to think of it.  
He sighed again.  
Just what he needed...a virtual pet.

"_Okay,...come on, bit. Let's make some ground before the Recognizers drop by again. Ready?"_

And of course that statement got the yellow shape, along with the_ "Yes."_

He reached tentatively to touch the bit once it had returned to it's gray form, and he found that it really didn't feel all that different from lightweight plastic.  
In fact, though it was solid it didn't seem to have really any weight at all.  
He carefully wrapped his gloved fingers around it, and it seemed content to stay in his palm.

Rolling his eyes at the odd luck he seemed to have, he carried the bit with him as he crept several more steps along the side of the building, then sneaked quickly across the walkway to the next building. He'd figured out the only way he was going to get anywhere without being hassled or apprehended was by staying in the shadows.

* * *

Clu's ship banked around, away from the rooftop of the arcade simulation, engines whining as the craft accelerated straight for the center of the city, the sector where the game arena was located.

Kevin stood bracing himself against the rear observation view-screen, watching as the arcade receded into the distance, and then his eyes traveled to the city below.  
This was hopefully it - the last time he'd get a look at Tron city as a hostage. The next time he came to the Grid, it would be after things here had been restructured, restored to safety and to sanity...and he'd never again digitize in without a lifeline of backup waiting for him in the Real World. He'd learned a lifetime's lesson about that - well, a fourth of a lifetime anyway, twenty-one years being the equivalent of a quarter of the span of an average human male's life.  
And, he was lucky - most people don't get the extreme fortune of having their two-decade-long mistakes expunged and their youth restored.

Just now he thought about that concept...after the re-integration had happened, how had twenty-one years just been erased from his physical body and appearance, without the time being erased from his memory and awareness?...and would it stay this way once they rezzed back into the real world?...would he truly start life over from there, as a man in his mid-thirties?...or would he go back to being the older, gray-haired, bearded version of himself again, the one his son had virtually rescued after coming to the Grid?  
There was no way to know the answers, because he didn't even know how this had been possible in the first place.

Many unknowns. Many variables.

Which only raised more questions in his mind, things he tried not to think about...such as,...IF he stayed young after the transition to the real world, then,...that would mean he would not only look the same age as his grown-up son plus have a lot of explaining to do to the world, but, it also meant he would have to watch his lifelong friend Alan - who was already chronologically much older than him now - as he grew even older and someday passed away, before he himself ever even reached old age.  
The thought of that saddened him deeply, almost to tears, and it didn't seem fair at all.  
Why couldn't Alan's youth have been restored by the Grid, just as his own youth had been?  
Then again, maybe his youth hadn't been restored - _maybe it only thought it had_.

Again, there were many unknowns. Many variables.

Kevin was startled out of these thoughts as Clu came walking quickly down the corridor.  
He looked at his now-identical twin with a slight frown.

_"Clu,...who's flyin' the ship, man?..."_

Clu gave a slight grin and waved back towards the control room.

_"Tron is. He was once Rinzler – he still knows this ship backwards and forwards. He can fly it impeccably, even in my absence. Which is what I wanted to talk with you about..."_

Kevin's eyebrows raised, and he chuckled. _"Oh yeah?...you plannin' on goin' somewhere?..."_

"_Yes,..."_ Clu's chin raised, his eyes softening and his face taking on a more somber expression, "_...I'm going to get Alan-1." _

Kevin's brows shot upward in slight alarm, but mostly confusion. _"Wha-...I thought that's what we're all doin', man,..."_

Clu interrupted him with a slight wave, then patted his Creator's arm gently.  
His voice was softer, and his eyes more serious. _"Kevin,...we are...but,...you need to understand,...from here on out, this will not be easy, and...it may not go smoothly...at all..."_

Kevin gave a sardonic half-chuckle. _"Yeah,...well,...like anything has up to this point anyway?..."_

The Creator watched the program's face...Clu's brow raised slightly, and there was the hint of a patient but firm smirk...it was the look he himself had given the young Sam many times as a small child, whenever the boy had tried to change his dad's mind about something serious...and seeing the look now on Clu's face, Kevin could tell he was about to be out-stubborned on this matter.

Clu continued, holding up a light-baton just like his own, _" I'll give Alan-1 a baton, so he can ride a light-cycle,...that way he's a moving target, not a sitting duck. I'll lead him and run interference from a light jet. I've already set up an overlay, a time-loop pre-recording for the Grid security's aerial views, so that from the arena command center view-screens it will appear that the streets are still desolate even when we're there... but that may not hold...and if it doesn't, they'll come after all of us...with a vengeance. There will be Recognizers, maybe jets too. Many of them,... and,..."_

Kevin nodded, starting to interrupt, but Clu didn't give him the chance.

"_...AND,...if that happens, I can only do so much from this ship. But...if I'm in a light-jet, I know how to throw their attention onto me to get it off of you – and I'll be masking myself as you, because it's you they want to capture and destroy. Meanwhile, you and Tron can use the ship's turrets to fire on the Recognizers, and use the tractor to bring Alan-1 aboard while their numbers are down..."_

Clu paused, his eyes growing even more somber, and his Creator just stared back at him as he continued.

"_...Kevin,...your primary directive is to make it to the portal with Alan-1 and Tron, then to get to the User world...and if it turns out that you have to get there without me...well,...then,..."_

He paused, his voice trailing off.  
Kevin's eyes searched his, saddening as this began to sink in.

"_Clu,...you would do that,...for us?..."_

Clu nodded. _"Yes."_

Kevin just stared at him, a thousand emotions in his eyes.  
He didn't know what to say.  
But Clu did.

"_Look at it this way...you wrote me once,...you can write me again. There can always be another me, if something were to happen. But,...there can never be another you, nor another Alan-1. That's the way it should be."_

Clu gave a soft smile, and the look in his eyes was one his Creator had never seen. Kevin watched as the program retrieved the disk from his back, and then handed it to him. Then Clu nodded, looking him right in the eye, still grinning.

"_I'm willing to trust the process, Kevin."_

Kevin stared at him for only a couple of seconds more, before he suddenly lurched forward and pulled Clu into a hug, holding onto him tight and patting his back. Clu did the same, and when they finally pulled apart Kevin's eyes were misted with tears. He grabbed the program by the shoulders, his voice full of emotions which he fought back with a grin as he spoke forcefully.

"_Damn it, Clu!...man!... you better make it to the portal with us,... or I'm kicking your ass. You understand?... I'll,...I'll... re-write you and then kick your ass. Because you're comin' with me to the real world!...you got it?..."_

Clu smiled, giving a nod, forcing away the emotions trying to well up in his own eyes. _"Well, can't argue with the Creator..."_

The program turned and walked a few steps toward the rear of the ship, then pressed a button on the side of the hull, activating the intercom to the control room.  
His eyes stayed on Kevin, and he kept the slight confident grin as he spoke into the microphone.

"_Tron,...got Alan-1 in sight?..."_

"_Yes..."_ came the answer. _"...the sector's just ahead...we'll be within range in mere nanocycles. Are you ready?..."_

Clu nodded, attaching the extra light-baton to his suit, and retrieving his own baton. _"..as I'll ever be. Open the hatch and give me the countdown. I'll see you guys at the portal."_

An opening rezzed in the side of the hull, and then a portion of the floor retracted back from it.  
Clu walked to the edge, looking down at the city spanning below them under the clouds.  
Then he looked back at Kevin, and waited for the sound of Tron's voice on the speaker.

"_Clu,...you are go in ...5, ...4 ... 3 ..."_

Clu gave his Creator one more nod and a grin as he clicked open the baton and pressed the button.  
And then as he heard Tron's voice say, "one",...he turned, jumped out the hatch, and soared through the clouds, the blue-white light-jet rezzing around him.


	42. Chapter 42

Los Angeles

* * *

"_Sam, you are pacing the floor again. Do all Users do this, or just you and your father?"_

Quorra stood leaning against the wall by the stairs, the copy of _The Digital Frontier_ still in her hands. She looked at Sam with wide eyes, peering up from the book's pages, and the smirky smile on her face was enough to make him smile too in spite of his nervousness. He could tell she was relieved, and really so was he - his dad was quite possibly coming home, finally, and so was Alan, hopefully. Though they weren't out of the woods just yet...they still had to actually escape the Grid. Sam just wished there was something more he could do besides wait. Which was why he'd been pacing the floor...waiting was not something he did very comfortably.

He gave a slight chuckle, scratching idly at the back of his neck and grinning self-consciously. _"My dad paces too?.."_

She nodded, giggling. _"Yes. Somewhat more slowly, but, yes. Often. When he's working on something, especially. He calls it 'knocking on the floor'..." _

Sam laughed, and looked bashfully down at his feet with a soft smile. Then he turned around, and quickly stepped back towards the desk, leaning over to check the network cable beneath it.  
Sure enough, the router was unplugged.

Quorra giggled again, watching him. "_Sam, you just checked that not too long ago. Are you afraid it's going to plug itself back in while you aren't watching?"_

Sam looked back over at her, surprised, and then couldn't help but laugh - he wasn't accustomed to Quorra making jokes. He raised an eyebrow, smirked, then finally smiled.

_"Smarty. Looks like you've caught the Flynn sense of humor."_

Quorra giggled again, and watched as he sat back down on the box of books. He sat fiddling idly with his cell phone for a while, before setting it aside with a long sigh. "_I'm just nervous. Wish I could do something...but Dad said not to. I can't even really get in touch with them now...'don't know what's going on."_

Quorra closed the book and walked over to where he sat, then knelt down beside him, garnering his attention quite suddenly by resting her hand on his knee.

_"Kevin would say to 'trust the process'..."_

Sam nodded, then gave another chuckle, rolling his eyes. _"Yeah...and then he'd start pacing, right?"_

This brought more giggles from Quorra, and a fond smile from them both.  
Then she stood again, and Sam watched as she walked back to the doorway, leaned against the wall, opened the book again and resumed reading...stopping to cast him a small grin from over the pages.

He sat there for a few more moments, then finally stood up, and slowly pushed the heavy box of books back towards the shelves.  
Turning, he found Quorra still glancing at him from over the pages of the book. He gave a slight grin and a shrug.

_"...more room to knock on the floor now..."_ And then he went right back to pacing.

* * *

Alan crept along beside the shadows of the building step by step, finally reaching the end of the wall.  
Peering around the corner he saw only more deserted walkways, dimly lit and glowing at the edges, spanning off as far as the eye could see amidst the spires of tall buildings.  
He sighed, leaning against the wall, and muttered to himself.

"_...not a soul around. But just as sure as I step out there, something will come from out of nowhere and hassle me, won't it?..."_

And as soon as he heard himself phrase the comment as a question, he regretted it.  
The bit enclosed in his hand morphed into it's yellow octahedryl shape, tickling his gloved skin as it jumped around in his palm and answered with a loud muffled electronic, _"Yes!"_

"_Shh!...cut that out!"_ He nearly dropped the bit trying to contain its erratic movements, then opened his hand and watched as the bit simply spun around and went back to it's neutral shape.

"_Can you just...not answer me for a while?...until I ask you to answer me?..." _

"_No," _came the red spiky star-shaped reply and electronic voice.

Alan sighed.  
Well, there was his answer, in that apparently the bit _couldn't not answer him_.  
It was going to do this same thing every time he tried to say something which sounded like a yes or no question.  
Stretching his fingers wide and lifting his hand, he released the bit into the air, setting it free as if it were a butterfly, then watched as it twirled and lurched around in the air.  
It went zinging around him in circles and then darted a few feet away, as if it wanted to play chase.  
Then the bit floated back to hover beside him, at which point he pointed a gloved finger at it and spoke firmly. _"Stay."_

He shook his head, sighing as the bit stayed in place and spun around on it's own axis in its neutral shape and gray color. Then he chided himself in his thoughts.  
_...how special - I'm telling a bit to 'stay'...  
...it's not a dog, Bradley, it's a bit...  
_

And then he sighed again, rolling his eyes.  
_...oh whatever..._

He grabbed the bit again, and took two steps out into the walkway from the recesses of the building.  
Just then he heard a distant whine of what sounded like engines, and he looked up as the sound got much louder, his jaw dropping open when he saw what it was...not a Recognizer, but some sort of plane instead... a small one which resembled a glider but sounded like a jet and glowed a bluish white brilliance, streaming a wall of light out behind it as it soared.  
He jumped back as the thing swooped in closer to the ground, then saw that in the middle of that bluish white light - apparently piloting it - was none other than Kevin Flynn.  
Or so he thought, until the small jet seemed to dissolve and the figure piloting it went flipping through the air to land amazingly on it's feet, then took off in a jog towards him.

_"Alan-One!...it's Clu!..."_

Alan backed all the way up against the wall of the building, not quite sure of what the program's intentions were.

Clu slowed his steps, noting Alan-One's wariness and looking curiously into his eyes as he drew closer to the User. _"Are you alright?...can you hear me?..."_

Then Alan smirked, crossing his arms, seeming puzzled and irked at the same time.

"_Of course I can hear you. Though my eardrums may never quite be the same again."_ He nodded towards the airspace where the loudly-whining jet had just been.

Clu gave a grin, relieved.  
Another engine noise approached from up above them, the roar making a Doppler effect as it banked and circled around the building, and Alan glanced worriedly at the skies, but Clu only glanced upward before waving slightly and stepping closer to Alan.

"_That's Kevin and Tron,...in my ship..." _

Clu watched as Tron circled the ship back, then he reached for the baton which was side-armed at his leg. Holding the baton out towards Alan, he continued in a voice slightly tinged with urgency.

_"...here...take this. There isn't a lot of time. So you're going to have to listen closely...I'm going to show you what to do. We're heading to the portal, which will take us back to your world. But getting there may be...a challenge."_

Alan just looked the baton, his eyes narrowing as he stared at it warily, then stared at Clu just as warily. "_Why don't I like the sound of this plan?"_

Clu gave a smirk, but remained focused on the task ahead, grasping the baton again in both hands and pressing the buttons on it's facade. _"This will become your lightcycle. Observe."_

He looked around, noting the still-deserted streets, then ran forward, clicking open the baton and leaping as the lightcycle rezzed.  
When it had fully formed, he circled it back around to where Alan stood gaping in fascination, and then sat letting it idle softly.

Alan uncrossed his arms, staring incredulously at the lightcycle before him. The bit wiggled slightly in his palm and so he set it free to dance in the air, at which point the bit immediately captured Clu's attention. Alan nodded at the spinning gray geometric mass with a cynical quirk of one eyebrow.

"_Uh,...a bit. It found me, seems to want to stay with m- "_

But he stopped mid-sentence as the bit suddenly zoomed right over to Clu instead, circling him playfully, then bumping him on the shoulder several times, as if answering some unasked question with a cheerful bright yellow octahedryl exclamation. "_Yes!"_

Clu looked at the bit, bemused and puzzled, then shook his head. _"No."_

But the bit kept flipping around in the air, and bumping against his shoulder almost defiantly, like a kid playfully poking at the arm of his peer in elementary school, each time arguing, _"Yes!"_

Clu shook his head again, looking at it, this time with a slightly impatient frown and voice more firm. _"No."_

The bit ignored him, and hovered right by his shoulder, repeating the behavior until he finally sighed and looked at it. _"Okay. Whatever. Now leave me alone." _

The bit flared a bright yellow octahedryl again and flipped around in the air gleefully, apparently seeing this as some sort of triumph. _"Yes!Yes!Yes!" _

Clu looked back at Alan, and shook his head.  
Then trying his best to ignore the bit's antics, he began to explain the workings of the lightcycle, stopping every so often to swat the bit gently to the side when it insisted upon getting right in front of his face.

The User watched the proceedings with a smirk.  
He had to admit it was funny to see Clu losing a battle of wits with a small, stubborn clump of binary data.  
After a moment Alan looked back at the lightcycle, stepping closer to it, a slight wry smile on his face as he examined the softly-purring machine.

"_Well, it's... really an amazing creation...and,...so,...you're going to drive me there on this?"_

Clu's brow raised. _"No. __**You're**__ going to drive you there on this. I'm going to lead you, in the light-jet, until we can get to a clearing so that Tron and Kevin can bring you aboard the ship with the tractor."_

Alan's eyes grew wide and he gave an incredulous chuckle. _"You're joking, right?...I've never even ridden a motorcycle in my life."_

Clu shrugged slightly, and grinned._ "Well,...no time like the present." _He paused, scanning the cloudy skies again, feeling relieved when he saw only his lone ship as it circled back around the building. The overlay was working, and apparently their presence there was not being detected.

Meanwhile Alan stared at the lightcycle with no small degree of reticence, then his brow quirked as he crossed his arms again and looked back at Clu.

"_Right. I'm going to just magically know how to ride that?" _

Just then the bit floated right over and bumped against Alan's shoulder, flaring enthusiastically into a bright yellow bluster of _"Yes!Yes!Yes!"_ before returning to pester Clu again.

Alan sighed, and rolled his eyes, stifling the urge to laugh.

Clu stepped forward._ "I'm going to teach you,... and then- ... HEY!" _he stopped abruptly when the bit sailed right up to bump into his face, and then it dodged his hand when he swatted at it, instead returning to hover defiantly at his shoulder.  
If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn the thing had taken a liking to him, though it sure had a strange way of showing it.  
He had to admit the bit was really sort of cute, even if it was far more annoying than the non-animated version of it which he carried in his jacket pocket. He looked at the thing and smirked, brows arching into a frown. "_You're making a nuisance of yourself...you know that?"_

This time the bit flared a red spiky _"No."_ And then gently bumped up against his shoulder again, before continuing to happily fly circles around both him and the lightcycle.

Clu sighed, deactivating the lightcycle and handing the baton to Alan before looking back at the bit which was repeatedly bumping him on the shoulder again.

_"What!...we don't have time for this!...You're not going along. I have a light jet. You cannot possibly keep up with me."_

The bit ignored his statement and kept zinging around him in circles, stopping to bump him in the shoulder again and then just hovered there.  
Finally Clu gave in, if only to stop the bit's antics so he could get on with what he was doing.  
He unzipped his jacket, held open one of the empty side pockets, then spoke to the bit impatiently. 

_"Okay. Fine. Then you're riding in here."_

The bit surprised him by immediately launching itself upward and then dropping right into the pocket.  
Clu stared into the pocket for a nanocycle, then spoke to the recalcitrant bit as he zipped his jacket up again. 

_"Now behave. I don't want to hear a peep out of you again. Understood?" _

From inside the jacket came a slight flutter of motion and a muffled little electronic, _"Ymph."_

Clu rolled his eyes, finally looking up to see Alan standing with a closed hand over his mouth, as though trying to suppress a cough, his shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle.

Smirking at the User briefly, he then continued his explanation of how to operate the lightcycle.

A few nanocycles later, Alan stood holding the strange electronic instrument called a light-baton, and it was time for him to activate the vehicle himself.  
He was surprised at how much apprehension he had about it.  
On one hand, the thought of this lightcycle ride was a complete thrill.  
On the other hand, he felt far too old to be trying such a stunt.  
Then again, he didn't have much of a choice, and he felt more than a little silly for being so reticent.  
_...how tough can this be, really..._

He finally shrugged, and looked at Clu. He could hear the craft circling overhead waiting for them, and he knew they didn't have time to waste.  
_...okay,..."Tron",...now it's time to live up to your nickname..._

He stepped back, paused a moment, and then took a running start.  
With a leap and the click of the baton, he felt himself lurched into a state of suspended animation as the light-cycle rezzed into existence mid-air, and for just a brief second it felt like the butterflies in his stomach had decided to branch out and dance their wings on his every nerve. But then the cycle's wheels touched down to the ground, at which point he did just as Clu had instructed...he used his thoughts to propel the cycle, and when the lightcycle zoomed forward it was all he could do not to yell an exhilarated, _'Whoo!'_  
After a few unsteady tries at turns while driving around in the street, he finally got the hang of it, and then circled back around to give Clu a nod, the signal they'd agreed upon as "all systems go".

Clu nodded in reply, his own baton at the ready, and then hopped up onto the nearby containing wall which sloped upward next to the building.  
At it's highest point, the wall would only give him a few feet off the ground to launch, but he wasn't worried...he'd done this same stunt so many times now he could practically do it in sleep-mode.  
Running up along the top of the steep wall until he reached it's highest point, he then clicked the baton to activate, and sprang out into the air, the small jet rezzing around him in the open clearing. Then he lurched the craft upward, accelerating at the same time, engines whining as he pressed towards the sky.

A mere nanocycle later Clu was blazing a path up ahead through the clouds, flying in tandem with the ship as Tron led them to the portal.  
He looked down to see Tron's User following him on the ground level, racing the lightcycle along at an impressive pace.  
Thankfully Alan-One wasn't aware of how to ignite the light-ribbon, because that was an attention-drawing device they did not need...he'd extinguished his jet's ribbons for that very same reason.

Clu bore his energy into the jet, accelerating it forward. The portal was not very far.  
And just ahead of them was the open expanse of road which would allow the ship to hover close enough to the ground to tractor Alan aboard.  
From there Clu would just need to fly on in as wing-man, and once they'd crossed the Sea of Simulation and reached the platform they'd be, as Flynn would say, 'home free'.

He watched as Alan-One did just what they'd agreed upon...slowed the lightcycle to a steady, even pace as the ship closed into a hover position.  
Then in a flare of light, the tractor picked the User up...and Clu grimaced, watching for a tense nanocycle as the beam fought with the mass of the still-activated lightcycle.  
_...you're supposed to deactivate the cycle now, Alan-One,...remember?..._

And then as though the User had heard his thoughts, the lightcycle deactivated, leaving only the baton in Alan's hand.  
Then the beam disappeared, and Clu smiled.  
They had Alan-One safely aboard the ship.

Clu locked his sights on to the ship and veered out to the side, keeping a steady vigil in formation.

Much to his relief, the Sea of Simulation soon sprawled ahead on the horizon.  
This was going far better than he had anticipated. He dropped altitude, preparing to get into position beneath the ship, derezz the jet, and then tractor up, exactly as he and Tron had planned.

Just then a flash of energy suddenly tore through the craft around him, stunning his circuits with a sizzle of electricity as the horizon in front of him spun out into a vortex.  
The sky and sea were no longer two discernible things.  
It was then that he realized he'd been hit by something, and was spiraling downward.  
A nanocycle later he realized the reason he couldn't accelerate out of it was because he was no longer in his lightjet. It had been derezzed. There was no baton in his hands.  
And he was falling towards the Sea.

Oddly enough, he didn't panic after the first initial thought..._...oh User, this is it..._

Instead, he went into shock. Then he just dropped his arms out to his sides and fell.  
He heard the sound of cannons firing, and the sound of something derezzing, and he was pretty sure it was the ship firing at a lightjet.  
By whatever calculations his frazzled circuits could still make, impact with the Sea would be within about eight to ten nanocycles.  
His thoughts whispered words he wished his Creator could hear.  
_...I'm sorry, Kevin..  
...I tried...  
...there were...variables...  
...please make it back to your world...  
...you have to..._

Then something jarred him from below, sending vibrations crashing through him.  
But it wasn't the impact with the surface of the Sea of Simulation.  
It was the high-energy thrum of the ship's tractor, locking onto him and lurching him upward suddenly, the pull of the tractor reversing his fall abruptly as the beam fought gravity to pull him aboard.

At that split-nanocycle, just before he powered-down into unconsciousness from system overload, Clu could have sworn he heard Tron's calm, intrepid voice in his head. _"Hang on...I've got you, buddy..."_


	43. Chapter 43

**_Approximately 1.3 microcycles earlier..._**

The tractor had pulled Alan-One aboard successfully, and Tron took his attention from the ship's controls just long enough to give a hopeful glance back toward the bridge corridor...he could see his User laying on the floor of the ship as the tractor recovery panel re-rezzed into place to seal the cabin.  
Then he saw Flynn rushing to Alan-One's side to attend to him, taking off his own jacket and tucking it around the unconscious User's torso.  
Returning his gaze quickly to the view-screen and steering console, the security program quieted his worried thoughts.  
_...remember...this is normal...  
...this is just what happens...  
...Alan-One will be alright..._

He'd seen this many times, in fact.  
The tremendous magnetic force of the tractor beam often sent programs into sleep-mode, sometimes even for several microcycles.  
It had done the same to the Creator when they'd pulled him aboard.  
And that is how he knew Alan-One was going to be just fine.  
Flynn would make sure of it. Kevin, that is.  
_...I still can't get accustomed to calling him 'Kevin' instead of Flynn...  
...but that is what he wants...so that is what I will call him..._

Tron pressed the engines close to full power, urging the cruiser onward eastbound as they crossed the far edge of the outlands. The Sea of Simulation stretched out ahead, it's darkened waters reflecting periodic flashes of lightning in soft glints along the rippling surface, and up ahead in the distance was the majestic beam of glorious light they sought...the portal.  
He scanned his glance across the panoramic view-screen to port side, where he could see Clu's lightjet steadily keeping pace with them.  
If all went as well as it had thus far, they would all reach the portal without incident.  
At the sound of Kevin's footsteps, Tron turned his head slightly to the side in acknowledgment of his Creator's approach.

"_Well,...he's out cold right now, but I don't wonder at it...that tractor thing did the same to me, and I'm almost ten years younger. Well... theoretically I am, anyway..." _Kevin gave a wry half-chuckle and paused, glancing back in Alan-One's direction,_ "...yeah,...he'll be alright. Just probably sore as hell when he wakes up."_

Tron gave a sympathetic nod of agreement, and was about to reply when a sudden bright flash lit up the sky to his left, startling him.  
He glanced over just in time to stare in horror as Clu's lightjet literally electrified, fiery tendrils of current gamboling across the wings and then zeroing in on the center, engulfing the stunned pilot's circuitry and then derezzing the lightjet altogether in an explosion of pixels.

Tron gasped and let out a cry. _"NO!...Clu!"_ and he banked the ship sharply, dodging the residual clusters of pixels which still dissipated in the air.  
Craning his neck he caught a glimpse of Clu who was now spiraling downward, slowly falling through the cloudy skies. He could see no light baton in the program's hands, and Clu didn't appear to be conscious, or if he was, he wasn't moving.  
Kevin's stammered voice mirrored the panic Tron felt.

"_...'the hell ?...WHAT WAS THAT? !...something hit him!...WHERE did that- … WHAT-" _

Tron's voice interrupted, as he pointed to the images now appearing on the rear-view display screens. _"There! Just behind and below us...it's a jet..."_

Kevin's face went pale and his jaw dropped. _"...no,...it's a whole bunch of them..."_

"_Hold on tight, Kevin!"_ Tron's voice warned, just before the ship lurched slightly forward and he sent them angling into an evasive dive, dropping back on the throttle as two lightjets screamed past.  
He gunned at one of them, sending it into a spin, whereupon the two jets smashed into each other and derezzed. The large cruiser banked again to miss the flying pixelated remnants, and Kevin grabbed quickly onto the back of Tron's seat, his eyes wide as he stumbled and almost fell to the floor of the craft. He'd never realized Tron could fly, much less that he could fly like this, and quite frankly it was a bit more barnstorming than his inner-daredevil craved.

The ship was rapidly descending through the clouds, heading straight for Clu's falling form, and Tron glanced back at Kevin with a grave but determined look on his face. "_I'm going to get him..."_

Kevin just nodded, eyes still wide, throat suddenly as dry as a desert, and he was a little too stunned to say much.  
He swallowed with a gulp and held on tight to the back of the seat. _"...okay..."_

Focusing on the controls, Tron glanced at the rear-view display, where an echelon of six more jets now joined in to follow right on their tail.  
None of the jets had fired, yet.  
Tron maneuvered the ship closer to Clu, and his voice was measured and calm but with a slight edge as he initialized the tractor sequence. "_Kevin,...how good of a shot are you?..."_

The programmer took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through partially-closed lips, then answered, managing to sound much more calm than he felt. _"...oh,...I do alright, I guess...at Space Paranoids..." _He cleared his throat nervously.

Tron gestured at the jets on the rear-view display with a nod, his voice still fairly calm but definitely adamant. _"Well, I'm going to need you to fire at those jets while I steady down and tractor him up to __us...I can't do both..."_

Kevin took another deep breath. _"Just point me to the controls..."_

Tron gave a nod back over his left shoulder. _"See that pedestal?...stand next to it and press your hand to the panel..." _

Kevin touched the panel, and instantly a semi-transparent screen sprang up from the pedestal, along with a shoulder harness apparatus which dropped down to encircle his upper torso.  
Two platform armrest beams steadied his forearms and there was a joystick for each hand.  
On the screen was a real-time simulation of the jets who trailed them.  
Kevin grabbed hold of the joysticks, and exhaled, brows dipping into a determined frown.  
He could do this. He wished he didn't have to, but, yes, he could do this. His thoughts yammered snippets, echoes from the past.  
_...you've got this...  
...it's all in the wrist...  
...when you're on the other side of the screen...it all looks so easy..._

Tron operated the VTOL controls with one hand and fought to keep the tractor bay steadily aligned over Clu with the other. He glanced at the Creator. _"On my command, alright?..."_

"_Yeah."_ Kevin nodded, brow still furrowed in concentration and thumbs poised over the joystick buttons.

Plummeting the ship into a horizontal straight-drop, Tron locked on to Clu with the tractor sights and activated the beam.  
The he whispered softly to himself, and if programs could pray as Users did, then it was his prayer. "…_hang on,...I've got you, buddy..."_

Then he glanced back over his shoulder at Kevin, giving the order to fire at the jets. "_...and,...__**NOW**__!" _

At the press of Kevin's thumbs and a flick of his wrists, the ship's rear-mounted guns angled upward, unloading a tandem of torrential fire at the lightjets, spanning from one side of the echelon to the other and back. Three of the jets derezzed instantly, and the others flew wildly apart from formation like struck bowling pins. Kevin fired at the remaining three jets one at a time, and then exhaled with a relieved huff and wide eyes s they each derezzed.

"_YEAH!...that's got 'em!"_

Tron's hands flew over the controls of the ship. The tractor beam lurched Clu's body visibly upward as it took hold, with the water's surface only a few meters below. Then Tron quickly reversed the ship's direction just in time, pulling them straight up into the sky again and towing Clu along with them as the tractor slowly drew him upward to the underbelly of the cruiser.

Kevin had just relaxed somewhat at the firing pedestal when two more jets entered the rear-view display screen, swerving in from out of nowhere to follow them, a red-trimmed jet in the lead, and a yellow-trimmed jet behind it. He squinted, focusing on the two jets as his hands gripped the joysticks again, and suddenly the red-trimmed jet fired at them, hitting the cruiser's tail with a loud zap.  
The impact hardly fazed the flying fortress and simply glanced off the hull in a harmless ricochet, but Kevin wasn't going to give either of the jets the chance to get in another shot. He pressed the button and the ship's guns ignited into service, sending the red-trimmed jet derezzing into smithereens of pixels.

He fired again at the yellow-trimmed jet, but this time he only caught the wing, sending it spinning and deactivating as the pilot tumbled free from the craft, the light-baton hurdling through the air in the opposite direction. The pilot tumbled out of range on the rear-view display simulation screen, and Kevin whirled around to catch sight of him through the main view-screen, then stared incredulously...the pilot wore circuitry markings identical to Clu's classic yellow lightsuit, and the helmet was even the same. Tron watched too, as the falling yellow-trimmed figure plummeted right into the Sea of Simulation, and he was riveted by a sickening sense of irony.

After that, both view-screens remained clear, and no other jets were in sight.  
Tron engaged the boarding sequence and a portion of the floor in the bridge began to retract.  
Kevin turned and bolted towards the corridor, calling back over his shoulder to Tron as he grabbed Clu's disk from the console table.

"_I'll bring Clu aboard...you just get us to that portal, before anybody else shows up to screw with us."_

* * *

The long stairway leading to the platform had never seemed so endless.  
Kevin supported most of Alan's weight, helping him up each step as they went. The older man was barely conscious, completely exhausted, and leaning heavily on him for support. He stumbled slightly, and Kevin caught him, repositioning his grip around Alan's waist and ducking under his arm, then standing back up with Alan's arm draped over his shoulders.

"_It's okay, man,...I gotcha...we're almost there..."_

As Kevin guided him up the last few steps, Alan looked at his friend and managed to raise a sardonic eyebrow, then he spoke in a half-whispered voice, still slightly out of breath. _"...Kev,...ever hear of an escalator?"_

Kevin chuckled, and helped Alan up onto the platform. _"Yeah,...'thought about that a time or two. Sure woulda' made it easier, huh?..."_

Tron's voice came from behind them, sounding a bit strained. _"Yes...but...maybe easier... for programs...to escape...too..."_

The Creator nodded once in agreement, turning just as Tron stepped up onto the platform still carrying the unconscious Clu in his arms.  
Kevin's brow furrowed slightly in concern, looking at his doppelganger, whose circuits seemed so dim. The bluish-white stripe along his black riding jacket was barely illuminated, and his face seemed almost ashen. In Clu's current state, Kevin wasn't sure what the transport from the Grid would do to the program, on top of whatever damage had already been done from the blast to his lightjet, but one thing was for sure - as long as he still had Creator powers, he was going to use them to make sure his program had a fighting chance in the real world.  
He nodded at Tron, and spoke in a gentle voice.

"_Here,...lay him down on the platform...let me take a look at him..."_

Tron nodded solemnly, and gently laid Clu's unconscious form down at Kevin's feet.  
Then he moved to Alan's side, shouldering his weight so that Kevin could be free to kneel down beside Clu.

Alan grimaced at Tron and rolled his eyes, seeming embarrassed at needing assistance. _"Good Lord,...I feel like an invalid..." _

But Tron just gave a soft, wry smile. _"Not to worry, Alan-One,...it is normal after what you have been through. It won't last long. And besides, it's my honor to help you. You're my User. You wrote me."_

Alan nodded, glancing at Tron again, then just chuckled. _"You know, it's really kind of strange being this close to my look-a-like..."  
_

With Clu's head resting against his knees, Kevin worked on the double-helix coding of the program's disk. At Alan's comment, he looked up and smirked. _"Yeah?...man,...how do 'ya think I feel?..."_

Alan shook his head and grinned, chuckling softly. _"Well...'sure going to be interesting...now I'll have two Kevin Flynns around to drive me to the edge of my patience." _

_" Yeah,...and we're sure gonna do our best to."_ Kevin gave a soft smile, rolling Clu onto his side, returning his disk to it's hub. Then he rolled the unconscious program to lay on his back again, resting Clu's head very gently back against the floor of the platform.

And then the programmer sat back on his heels, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and placed his hands on Clu's chest. He remained very still as though deep in thought.  
Alan tilted his head curiously, unsure of what his friend was doing.  
But Tron knew. And he smiled.  
At the touch of the Creator's hands, Clu's circuitry slowly began to glow more brightly again, the bluish white stripe along the front of his jacket returning to a strong glow, and the color in his face looking much more healthy with every passing nanocycle.

After several moments Kevin opened his eyes again, seeming slightly drained, and he took a deep breath, then sat watching his program for several nanocycles until the blue eyes so much like his own fluttered open, squinting in the light from the portal and blinking up at him.

Kevin gave a soft grin. _"Hey, Clu. How you feelin', man?..."_

Clu blinked sleepily a few times, seeming a little disoriented as he looked around.  
Then he looked back at Kevin, slowly nodding as he matched his Creator's grin. _"We made it,...didn't we?" _

Kevin nodded. Clu tried to sit up, but it took him a few nanocycles to get his bearings. Then he slowly got to his feet with Kevin's help, and looked at his Creator, slightly puzzled.

"_What happened?..."_

Kevin paused, shot a glance at Alan and Tron, then chuckled as his brows arched upward. He exhaled and smirked, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

_"Oh,... 'couple of things. Tell you all about it once we get to the User world, okay?..."_

Clu smiled fully now at his Creator's words..._once we get to the User world_ . He nodded again, and of all the things he could think of to say at this moment, _'Thank you' _seemed by far the most fitting.

It was only a few steps down the narrow platform walkway to the circular portal.  
Clu followed Kevin, and Tron followed along behind Alan to make sure he didn't lose his footing.  
The four of them gathered at the bright pillar of light which reached into the heavens, and Kevin removed his disk, holding it out in front of him.  
It was then that he noticed his hands were shaking,...but that didn't surprise him – he could hardly believe this was actually happening after all the years.  
Taking a deep breath, he gave one last glance around at the digital world which had been at first his miracle and then had become his prison for over two decades.

Then he turned to meet eyes with Clu, Tron and Alan, his arms extended in front of him with the disk in hand. "_Alright guys,...group hug here. Everybody step close and hang onto me." _

Tron, Clu and Alan all stepped closer to grab hold of each of Kevin's arms, Clu on one side of him, Alan and Tron on the other.  
The Creator slowly opened his hands and let go of the disk.  
It floated upward.

And then an impossibly brilliant flash of pure white light spread from the portal, engulfing them all.

* * *

_End of line for Part One of "System Restore"

_Thank you for reading, and stay tuned for the sequel story, _"System Restore : Real World"_.

_Peace... ;)


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